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touchme-teezme · 7 months ago

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hi mimi! idk if u take requests but last pick was everything to me like i lovedddd the book that inspired you 😭🥹 can i PLEASE get a san version with the “did you want to watch me burn” poem? just destroy me. my heart is yourssss

This Time.

PAIRING | collegeboy!san x fab!reader

TAGS | arguments, smut with a plot, kissing, oral, angsty unprotected breakup sex, san has great pull out game, and a (sort of?) cliffhanger… again? idk i suck at writing tags and proper endings lolololol

RATINGS | NSFW 18+ (minors pls DNI/if it makes u uncomfortable don’t read it)

SONGS | No One Noticed - The Marías, Not You Too- Dr*ke & Been Like This - Doja Cat

SUMMARY | The breakup for this couple was on the horizon. One of them was in denial, and it’s not you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you all for showing Last Pick a lot of love & anon for enjoying it. since a san version was requested, here ya go :) lmk which member should be next if you'd want me to actually make this into an angsty atz smut series. kinda like the idea they’re all connected?¿ like a smutiverse… im a little tipsy rn writing this part. also if u catch mistakes, no u didn’t. kk bye love uou

+ 💌 click here to see my Love Interrupted series masterlist [ot8] — check out the other parts!

inspired by a quote from Save Me An Orange by Hayley Grace: what more did you want from me? i gave you my heart my soul my body i let you build a home inside of me but you still went to the store and bought a lighter just to set me on fire did you want to watch me burn?

You’re usually an optimist but it wasn’t until San smashed the vase you bought and painted together at that one arts and crafts store that you realized optimism could only take you so far.

A screaming match broke out immediately. Words bounced off the walls, echoing in your small apartment as fingers were being pointed. He followed you around the entire house as you tried to walk away from the conversation, pinging in your ear like a fly.

San gets emotional when he cares. It was the first thing you liked about him when you first started to talk. How nice would it be to be with someone so well in-tune with their emotions that they don’t why away from it?

If only you’d known it would result in this.

The relationship was done for. It had been for a while. He had been far too busy juggling classes, work, and his new friends who seemed to suddenly fill all the time he used to spend with you. You’d barely even seen him in weeks, and when you did, it was like you were fighting for scraps of his attention.

San’s voice cracked as he shouted behind your head. “You think I don’t know I’ve been busy? I’ve been juggling everything, trying to keep it all together, and you—you—think I don’t feel guilty? You want me to just drop everything? Stop hanging out with my friends? Quit school? What do you want from me?”

He was following you now, not letting you get a moment of peace. You forced yourself to focus on the task of cleaning up the shards, trying to block out his words as you looked for the broom around your house.

“Do you think I want this? You think I want to feel like this? You think I want to hurt you? But you keep demanding more from me, and I can’t do it anymore! I can’t just stop living my life to fix yours!”

“Oh fuck off!” You barked back, finally finding the broom that was in an odd spot in your wardrobe (probably because San had placed it there the last time he used it). You were now growing more annoyed.

“Don’t curse at me! Listen to me for goodness sake!”

Your hands trembled around the broom handle, but you marched towards the vase shards and started sweeping, trying not to hear the poison dripping from his mouth. You had given up on fighting—there was no point anymore. He was too far gone, wrapped up in his own world that was so difficult for him to show up.

“You’re too much, alright?” he spat, his voice cracking with frustration. “I can’t breathe, I can’t think. Every time I try to focus on something else, you’re right there, needing something from me. I can’t fix this. I can’t keep being suffocated—“

You dropped the broom.

You turned slowly, meeting his gaze for the first time, and in that moment, you never felt like this about him before.

“Do you hear yourself?” Your voice was shaking, but it was steady, sharp. “In that whole rant you just forced me to hear, not once did you mention us—not once did you mention me like i’m not in this fucking relationship with you! Not once did you mention all i’ve done for you, and the only time you did was to insult me!”

San opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He just stood there, eyes wide, lips trembling.

You stepped forward as if to challenge his speechlessness, your heart pounding in your chest. “What the fuck are you still doing here then?!”

The room fell silent.

And then, out of nowhere, he tried to reach for you.

It was a movement fuelled by panic if he was truly honest, it was a final desperate attempt to fix things without actually knowing how.

He just knew that he had to have you in his arms and you’d melt. His hand caught yours, pulling you closer, but you yanked it away.

He stepped closer, his breath ragged, reaching for you again with a look in his eyes that was pure guilt you knew all too well.

Your stern face broke when he managed to get you in his large strong arms that wrapped around you.

You stood there, shaking, breathing hard, barely able to hold back the tears.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” Your cracking voice was muffled against his hard chest.

And then, in his painful silence, he cupped your face and pressed his lips against yours.

You did not stop him.

In fact, you couldn’t.

His next kiss was more desperate and frantic than the last, like he was trying to compensate for all the times he had utterly let you down.

When he finally found the self control to pull back, both of you were panting, faces flushed, hearts racing. He looked at you with a mix of fear, guilt, and longing in his eyes. He wiped your damp cheeks, cupping the sides of your face.

"I don’t mean to," He whispered. “I-I swear, everything I said, I-“

You shook your head in denial, wanting to just shut him up with more kisses knowing if you both talked, you’d eventually argue.

For once, you didn’t want to fight. If the relationship was crashing and burning right now, might as well get one last lick out of it, right?

Metaphorically, and quite literally.

San groaned softly into your mouth, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair and snake to the small of your back as he deepened the kiss with his tongue.

"You drive me insane," He breathed against her lips, breaking the kiss to look into her eyes.

It was true, you always had, in the best and worst ways possible. The feeling was mutual as you stared back at him.

He couldn't resist your pull, the way you were in the moment consumed him entirely. His hands roamed your curves, and reached down to grip your ass firmly as he walked you backwards towards the couch.

You let out a soft gasp, your fingers digging into his waist as you let yourself get sat down with him positioned above you. His knee perched up right between your slightly parted legs.

The friction his knee brushing between your legs sent a jolt of desire straight to your core. He could feel your pulse quickening, and your breath hitching as he sucked and kissed the sides of your neck.

Your hands slipped beneath his black shirt, seeking for skin. With a slight eager tug, he took it off without any argument, revealing his lean muscled torso that you did not hesitate to touch and admire knowing it was going to be the last time.

Instead of letting that knowledge crush you or him, with a low moan, he just leaned into your touch.

“Tell me to stop…” He breathed out, hands on your shoulders to steady himself. He struggled to maintain control as his arousal throbbed against the inside of his zipper.

“Keep going.” You replied in a husky whisper.

With a groan, he gave in to the temptation. His tongue met yours, as his hands slid down to your chest to cup your breasts through the thin fabric of your top, having to bite back a smirk when your back arched into his technique.

Your nimble fingers freed him from his jeans. Unbuttoning, and then zipping down before massaging his hard on through the fabric of his underwear. A breath of relief escaped his lips when his throbbing cock was finally freed.

He helped you out of your top, watching you stroke his impressive length in your hands from above. His hands glided down your back and unclasped your bra, letting your breast sit in all its glory.

He was going to take care of you first until your mouth engulfed him without missing a beat.

“O-oh my god.” His hips bucked involuntarily forward as your skilled hand continued to stroke, the dual sensations of her and her fingers wrapped around his member threatening to overwhelm him.

San’s eyes rolled back as you took him entirely into your mouth. His body weight leaning on his forearms that were on either sides of your head, holding onto the back of the couch for dear life.

Your skilled tongue and throat working in tandem to bring him to the brink of madness. The wet heat blanketing his aching cock was almost too much to bear, each bob of her head sent him more and more over the edge.

"Oh f-fuck!” His mouth hung open as he fisted your hair and fought the urge to thrust deeper.

A part of him couldn’t make sense why this was happening now of all times. He could’ve just taken your desperation to touch him for granted but something about it didn’t feel right.

With effort and a hell lot of focus, San gently stopped you before he could cum. He stroked the side of your face when you looked up at him confused. He shot one of the sweetest dimpled smiles at you.

Seeing that dimpled smile light up your face.

With a hand behind your head, he laid you back on the couch gently. Your hands politely stayed on your own chest, cupping them as you watched his next move.

In one swift motion, he tugged down your underwear with your pyjama shorts and tossed them away.

One of your legs get thrown over his shoulder, and he used his other hand to part your leg wider. His head moved down to your glistening sex and his tongue licked a strip up your folds.

Air got caught in your throat. You let out a shaking deep breath through your lips. His hand on your thigh moved up to your chest, intertwining his fingers with your fingers against your racing heartbeat.

You gripped onto his fingers every time he’d do something that sent shockwaves through your body either with his lips, tongue or his nose. He kissed your sensitive clit, alternating his tongue between that and pounding into your entrance.

“San,” You whined, which only encouraged him to keep going. You tilted your chin upwards, facing the ceiling as tears began welling in your eyes. Unclear if it was the pleasure or the sinking feeling in the out of your stomach.

Then you felt that body shock again, jolting you as you let out a loud moan.

You met his eyes. Those cat-like eyes staring back at you between your legs with laser focus before lazily shutting when he turned his head to the side to lap up your slick arousal from the inner part of your thighs.

He got up and took off his underwear before hovering on-top of you, centring his hard shaft just past your entrance as he supported himself up by the armrest behind your head.

His chain necklace to drop down and dangle in your face.

He gazed into your eyes, reaching down to rub your slick folds once more. He leaned down to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips as he readjusted his hard dick between your legs. Your hands wrapped themselves in the dip of his waist as your knees pressed against his hips.

“We can’t keep fighting forever,” You told him in a faint whisper.

Leaning down, he distracted you by capturing your lips into a tender loving kiss to slowly pushed in. He felt your teeth on his lip as your walls adjusted to him.

“I know.” Was all he could murmur against your face as a hand cupped one side of your face.

He kept having your lips in between his as he started to move, his hips rolling in a slow rhythm designed to slowly ease into you. Small gasps escaped your lips and you clutched onto his biceps for support while your neck stretched upwards.

“Baby, you feel incredible.” He picked up the pace slightly, his thrusts growing deeper, and more insistent, as he chased the intense feeling coursing through him.

The way your body clenched around his length, the soft gasps falling from your lips.

With your moans of approval, he seized the opportunity to go even deeper and quicken the pace in your wet welcoming heat. He pulled in your mouth for intoxicating searing kisses he couldn’t get enough of.

“I miss you,” You whimpered out the truth between the kisses. “S-so much.”

He snapped forward with new determination accentuated by the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each other.

He let go of your mouth to focus on your chest. "I'm right here baby." He mumbled over your breasts as he cupped one in his large hands, brushing over your nipples before reaching down to lick.

He alternates between wet kisses and whirling his tongue, aimed to only give you pleasure. In his defence, he hasn't had the opportunity to do this in a while.

You grabbed a side of his face to look into his lustful eyes. “I really did love you.” You breathed out.

“I love you too.” He replied, too entranced by the moment to catch that single word in your sentence.

You crashed your lips against his. The technique of his kissing made you moan loudly into his mouth, and then against his jaw with your eyes shut when he was hitting the perfect spot over and over.

Your body was tensing up tighter and tighter as the pressure of the inside you. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, ready to shatter into a million pieces at any moment.

“I’m close,” San panted. “Come for me. Come first.”

As a result of his husky words, your walls clench around him, and your climax comes crashing in. One passionate thrust as he buried himself inside your convulsing sex, the intense orgasm shook your entire body violently.

While your final convulsions faded, you slumped against the couch, panting heavily. Meanwhile, San rode off your enjoyment only to abruptly slip out of you before blowing a load inside you without a condom on.

He released himself from your legs that were wrapped around him and hurried to your nearby bathroom, his hard-on in his hands.

You lay there in a daze, trying to make sense of everything, feeling a mix of confusion and shame. You covered your face with your hands, desperate to hide from the reality of the situation.

Slowly, you pulled yourself up from the leather couch to sit up, its surface sticking a little to your sweaty skin, before you reached for your underwear lying forgotten at your feet.

You managed to get most of your clothes back on when he returned. The sight of him—his broad athletic build and that confident stride—distracted you just long enough for him to lean down and kiss you, his hands gently resting on the side of your neck.

You instinctively covered his hand with your own, locking eyes with him.

“Everything okay?” His voice was soft.

You stayed quiet for a moment, the weight of his question sinking in.

He kissed you again, his lips warm and insistent, and for a moment, the thoughts swirling in your head began to fade.

Before you knew it, he lowered himself down onto the floor across from you, wanting to pull you on top of him to straddle him.

“Stop. No more.” you murmured, pushing him away gently.

Your heart pounding as your knees pressed against the hardwood floors when you realised you were already sitting on his thighs.

San sharply sighed, a little disappointed, but he didn’t fight it. He let go of his grip on your waist, and you slowly kicked yourself off him.

The two of you lay on the floor, side by side, your breaths finally slowing after whatever that was. The silence between you wasn’t comforting in the slightest.

He reached for his underwear with his feet, slipping it on slowly, his eyes never leaving you. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was going on.

You turned your head to look at him. His eyes turned to the ceiling, his expression unreadable, distant even though he was right there.

“San,” you began softly, your voice breaking the stillness. “I think we—”

His phone buzzed, cutting through the tension, and he glanced at it with another sigh. You felt the moment slip away as he got up and fumbled for his phone left in his pants by the couch.

“It’s Mingi,” he muttered.

“San,” you tried again, your tone heavier this time, begging for his attention. But he’d already answered the call.

You stayed on the floor, your chest tightening as fragments of their conversation reached your ears.

“Dude, what? I’m in the middle of… Huh? No, I haven’t heard from her,” San said, his tone sharp but tinged with concern. “She’s been dodging everyone since that night at Yeosang’s when you wouldn’t shut up about your conquests.”

Your frown deepened as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch him. His brows furrowed, his full attention on the call like you weren’t even there.

“Well, maybe you should go check on her then,” San said, leaning back against the couch. “What, come over? Her place or yours?”

A pause, then his expression shifted—confusion, followed by clear exasperation.

San ran a hand through his messy hair. “Fine, whatever. I’ll come over later.” He hung up, tossing the phone onto the floor like it had personally wronged him.

“Mingi needs help with something,” he said it like that was enough explanation.

You stared at him, baffled and angry, “So you’re going?”

He turned to you, guilt flashing briefly in his eyes before he looked away. “I don’t have a choice,” he said quietly.

The words hit you like a slap, but what was worse than the sting was the inevitability that this was always how it would be. You, waiting for scraps of his time, his attention. Him, running off to play hero for everyone but you.

“You always have a choice. You just never choose me.”

Guilt and shame took over his tired expression, “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” You shot back. “You couldn’t even let me finish breaking up with you before answering his call.”

“What? Babe, it’s not like that. Look, he really likes her and—“

“Save it,” you cut him off, your voice sharp. “Since you’re always serious about everyone else, just go.”

He hesitated, his hand hovering near his phone. “You’re being—”

“Go,” you repeated firmly, tears welling in your eyes but your tone unwavering. “And don’t ever come back this time.”

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to defend himself, or to stay, but then he stood up. He pulled the rest of his clothes back on, grabbed his phone, and shoved it into his back pocket without a word.

He glanced at you on his way out, his gaze searching for something, anything, to make this easier. He convinced himself he’d call you tomorrow, that this wasn’t really goodbye like the other times you both have tried to end it. He didn’t realize how serious you were this time.

He walked past the shards and the broom and left. The door clicked shut behind him.

#ateez #choi san smut #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #choi san #ateez oneshot #atz smut #san x reader #atz x reader #ateez fic

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writingsfromhome · 11 months ago

Text

In Plain Sight

A/N: I wanted to play with the idea of 2 characters falling in love at different points in a story and what that would be like on each side. Idk if I fully captured what I wanted but I liked writing from harry/reader pov like this even though I kept switching partways lol.

Would love to know for inspo purposes—how do you know you’re falling?

———————————————

This is a first, you thought as you and Claire walked into the art gallery—one of your friends had a show of their unique pieces, mixing tech with traditional art. All of it was inspired by their partner, the lead in an indie pop band so to tie it all together they were playing at the gallery while the pieces hung on the walls, rippling with their programmed light and movement.

Take a posh gallery and stitch it with a rave. That’s kind of what it looked like in there.

“Guess I didn’t need to look so fancy,” Claire says in your ear. You two had spent the last half hour sorting your closets to figure out what was art-show appropriate.

“Let’s find Mimi,” you shout back.

You weave through the crowds, staying on the outskirts and spot her all the way up the front by the stage. You both agree to find her later and opt for a drink instead.

“Maybe I’ll get lucky tonight,” Claire comments as a tall guy brushes by, eyeing the length of her with a smirk before walking away. “Maybe you will.”

“That’d be nice,” you sigh. You hated being the chronically single one of your friends but that’s just how it went. Well it went beyond that—you felt unlucky in love.

Every relationship you poured yourself into and every relationship failed, just like that.

You were unloveable, maybe. You were lonely, definitely. So you’d take the warmth of a stranger where you could get it.

“I have an idea,” Claire says. “We dance our way through the crowd, I’ll be your wingwoman and we can make our way through towards Mimi. You’re so going home with someone tonight.”

You hold your glass up in agreement, you’d learned to just go with Claire’s ideas. Somehow they never worked in your favour, but that’s what you got for having a best friend that was a smokeshow. It used to bother you, but now in your late 20s after seeing Claire go through men like she went through shoes, it didn’t matter. The guys she went for also wanted a fun time like her. You wanted someone in it for the long run.

The men who felt the pull of her magnet were never meant for you anyway.

It felt mature, to think like that.

As Claire pulls you in, you find yourself dancing with male body after male body, hands on parts of you you barely touched yourself. You feel the familiar hollowness of loneliness. It was a constant companion, and yet never made you feel any less lonely.

Across the room stand two guys, they both watch Claire throw her head back and laugh. The purple and blue lights from above dance over her skin, she looked like a muse come to life. Like she was born from this art gallery.

“Mate. She’s beautiful,” Harry, the taller of the two, comments.

“You gonna talk to her?” Dylan asks. “Because if you’re not…”

“Give me a sec,” Harry got stupidly nervous around beautiful women. Which was stupid because he interacted with them on a daily basis, but that’s probably why he was considered a bit shy by people who met him. Shy was the nice way of saying awkward.

The thing with Harry is that he grew up as a wallflower. But in his mid 20s he started earning the attention of women. Pretty women. He felt like his pot of luck had been filled and then some, and yet he only got lucky on occasion. The problem was he just didn’t know what to do with his newfound attractiveness. Even 5 years on.

“There she goes,” Dylan comments as their muse moves to the bar. “Go on.”

Harry swears under his breath but makes his beeline towards her before anyone else could swoop in.

“Hiya,” Harry slides in beside her and then curses. He should have gone for something more suave. “Can I get you something-“

“I already ordered,” she smiles and Harry confirms she’s more beautiful than any of the crazy art in this room.

“Well it’s on me.”

“Thanks,” she takes him in. He tries not to squirm or think about what impression he was making. “I’m Claire.”

“Right. I’m Harry.”

“Nice to meet you Harry.”

“Likewise…So, erhm, you like dancing?”

She tilts her head, “I do. I was just down there.”

“I know.” Harry says. She raises a brow. Shite. “I mean like I saw you dancing. In the middle. You made it look like a fun time.”

“It is. Is dancing not fun for you?” She laughs. Her drink arrives and Harry pays for it orders for himself.

“I don’t do it a lot.” Harry taps his fingers on the bar. “I like the music part. That make you want to dance.”

She gives him that look. The look that told him he’d tipped the scales too far off to recover. Why couldn’t he just explain he made music? And dancing and making music went hand in hand. Why was that so hard to say??

“Well I’m going back in,” she announces. “Feel free to join.”

And of course he doesn’t. Because she would probably inch away from him if he did until the crowd swallowed her away.

“How’d it go? Make a good impression?” Dylan asks but Harry just downs half his drink and hopes that answers Dylan’s question. He’d made an impression alright.

Meanwhile, in the middle of the dancefloor you move to the heavy drums. This was one of your favourite songs by this group; it was on replay on your Spotify. The girl beside you grins at you and you both move in sync, shouting the lyrics. It’s more fun than you’d had with any guy here tonight.

When the band takes their break and a playlist replaces the live music, you try to find Claire. It’s surprising she doesn’t have a bloke already wrapped around her this late into the night.

“The line to the toilet is stupidly long,” she complains. “I don’t feel so good. Can we get air?”

“Of course,” you grip her arm and help her out. The night air is crisp compared to the recycled air inside. You take in a lungful.

“Hey,” Claire spots someone she knows and she moves towards them. You trail behind her as she walks up to two blokes smoking off to the side. “I never saw you dancing in there!”

The guy she’s talking to shrugs, his cheeks taking on a pinkish colour. He’s cute in a boyish way, but you reckon if he trimmed his hair and grew some scruff, he could be a lot more interesting to gaze at. A face that could hang in this art gallery, a soft pink light shimmering on the highs of his cheekbones.

His eyes clash with yours and you throw a friendly smile and make a conscious effort to join the group. You hadn’t heard what was said in the time you were admiring his face.

“I would if I hadn’t broken my foot a month ago,” the other guy says. He was a cold good-looking. Sharp features accentuated by a buzzcut. You could imagine him in an avant-garde spread of a magazine.

“Excuses!” Claire teases. She was good at this. “I was telling your friend here how fun dancing was, that he should join.”

“And he didn’t?! Harry, mate, we all know you dance.”

“Not the right setting.” He replies. Almost mumbles.

“Any setting is the right setting for dancing,” his friend says.

“Right!” Claire latches onto him, you knew her well enough she’d chosen her prey for tonight. “I feel like dancing is such a good release, any time music comes on my foot just-“

“Can’t hold it in right?” The other friend laughs. “Me too. When I’m on the tube I’m like how do I get into this without looking like a weirdo.”

Claire’s laugh crackles into the air. You smile, she was going home with him for sure.

You glance at Harry, he’s looking after her like a sad puppy. You’d seen that look too many times—dejected.

“I bet you wished you liked dancing more huh?” You tease, quiet so it doesn’t travel to the couple.

“Huh?” He looks at you like he just noticed you were standing beside him. “Oh. No?”

“Right.” Well this was awkward. “So you’re Harry. I’m y/n.”

“Oh sorry,” Claire says when she hears your name. “We’re so rude we just closed ourselves off to these two. This is y/n. and I just learned that this is Dylan.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dylan smiles at you. “Harry are you okay if we split?”

Claire looks at you, asking the same question with her eyes. You nod, and she smiles at you gratefully. Her eyes widen and she motions subtly with her head to Harry. You smile like it was a good idea but you know he wasn’t an option; he was one of Claire’s castaways. But she was too oblivious for that.

“Then there were two,” you joke, reaching for the familiar line. “Are you going back in?”

“In there?” He shakes his head. “We already said our goodbyes. I might just head home.”

“Oh okay. Did you know the artist?”

“I don’t. Dylan’s cousin is the lead singer in the band? We came by to support the show.”

“That’s nice.” You respond back even though he didn’t return the question. “I’ve worked with the artist actually—Jemima.”

“Cool. I take it you’re an artist yourself?” He asks, finally looking at you instead of around you.

“Yep. I do photography.”

A group of people exit the show and their noise drowns out whatever Harry was about to say. Without warning, like a valve opened, your chest fills with the ache of a feeling.

What am I doing here, you ask yourself. You’d come by to support Mimi, but you didn’t owe this guy anything. You should go home, do your usual routine of staring at the ceiling, hearing Claire come in late, try to drift to sleep, and then finally doing so.

Sometimes being with others felt more lonely than being alone.

“Anyway, it was nice meeting you Harry. I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh.” He seems surprised. “You’re leaving for home?”

“Well, yeah?” You shrug. “I’ve made my rounds, danced enough to need a gallon of water. My feet are telling me to go home.”

“You ladies talk about dancing and I feel like I missed out,” he laughs but it comes off kind of awkward and shy. It’s endearing.

You change your mind then—you imagine posing him at 3/4 angle and snapping him from below. Maybe a shot looking through his lashes. Something mysterious yet welcoming. The longer you got to know him, the more he shifted.

“Does that mean you want to go back in again?” You ask.

“Fuck it sure. If you come too. I don’t want to dance alone.”

“Why not? Have you never?”

“Danced alone?” He holds the door open for you and you go in. His energy seems to have shifted. He’s less awkward, more relaxed, but it still feels like you don’t have his full attention. Or maybe that was just your insecurities projected onto a beautiful man.

“I dare you,” you have to tip toe for him to hear you once you’re back in. You use both your hands on his back and guide/push him through the crowd. When you let go you open your arms wide.

He shakes his head and tries to grab your hands but you back away. “Dance!” You shout. “Let’s see.”

He laughs, his head weighing backwards like the ceiling could grant him some confidence, the length of his neck glistening with something you wanted to taste.

When he looks at you again you chant to dance and he shrugs away his shyness. Before you know it he’s moving until he’s actually in sync with the beat. You try not to be a creep, sneaking your phone out. He was a complete stranger but god the photo opportunity was perfect.

You manage two before he turns and finds you in the crowd again. He pulls you closer to him, nearly chest to chest.

“I should be a lot more drunk to be doing this.” He says in your ear. Goosebumps erupt down your arms.

Take it easy.

The two of you end up dancing for a few songs, laughing at new moves you put on. It becomes a contest to do a silly but serious move and you’re in stitches by the time the two of you stumble out.

“Jeez that was fun,” you lean against the brick fence a few buildings down. You were sweaty and out of breath, your body demanding hydration now.

“I have not done something like that in years. It was nice.” He grins. It feels like a secret. “Thank you for pushing me in.”

You felt like you should be thanking him, for the fun and for making you feel included tonight. But of course he ruins it when he opens his mouth next.

“You can tell your friend Claire I ended up dancing. It was a proper good time.”

“Yeah,” you fake a smile, the aching wound reawakening in your chest. “Maybe I will. I’m headed that way though, I’ll see you around Harry.”

His face falls for a moment, you can see him try to figure out asking you to stay but wondering why you’d gone so cold. You hated how a good looking man could fool you into thinking he could be smart. But this one was as daft as they came.

You wave and turn towards the direction of your station, feeling a bitter chill that wasn’t coming from the weather.

***

The next time you see Harry is about a month later. Claire had been seeing Dylan—they hadn’t labelled it according to her so it was still casual. But she felt good about it because he was having a thing at his flat and he’d invited her. So you join Claire since he’d extended the invitation.

“Maybe you’ll see his friend Harry.” She sings as you turn the corner to his street.

“I already told you nothing happened that night.”

“Maybe because you went home after having a marvellous dance-off with him!”

“He kinda got like soggy bread!” You complain. “If it weren’t for me the conversation would have gone stale.”

“Same here. When he spoke to me I mean,” Claire laughs. “Dylan did say he’s a bit shy. Just give him another chance.”

“He’s not interested-“

“You’re so harsh on yourself. Of course he would be! He’d be lucky to be with you…”

You let Claire launch into her tirade. Although you appreciated it, it ignored the fact that someone could just not be interested in you. Especially after fancying your friend first.

Dylan’s flat ends up being nicer than you thought, a lot of windows and fancy tech things around.

“Just call her,” you and Claire walk up to Dylan, Harry, and another guy. Dylan seems to be lecturing Harry on something.

“Call who?” Claire asks.

“Hey,” Dylan kisses her hello. “This girl Harry went to uni with. He bumped into her when she was walking her dog. Harry thinks they hit it off, but he refuses to call her!”

“Why not?!” You and Claire ask. Further proof he wasn’t into you.

“Well I friended her on Instagram and she’s just ignored it!” Harry explains.

“So? Maybe she doesn’t use instagram.” Claire offers.

“She does. I had Dylan request too and she accepted his.”

“Oh?” You notice the pitch change in Claire but nobody else does of course.

“I unfollowed her after,” Dylan says. Or maybe he did hear the change. Smart man.

The friends gathered in the room shift and flow around each other, you lose Claire pretty quickly after the hour mark like you usually did. Eventually it’s you and Harry again, sitting on the couch.

Just like soggy bread, he’s mostly silent with beer in his hand. You get tired of the silence so eventually you slide closer to him.

“So what’s with the girl from uni? Do you have history?”

“Huh?” He seems startled out of his thoughts. “Oh. Her. No we had a few classes, saw her at parties that sort of thing.”

“But it seemed promising when you saw her recently?”

“I think so?”

Poor Harry, he couldn’t even tell the difference.

“What about her number? Or try DM-ing her.”

“I don’t wanna be desperate.”

“Fine,” you think. “Nevermind. She’s probably not into you.”

“But she kept touching my arm,” Harry recalls. “Why would she touch me if she wasn’t interested?”

You look at his physique. It wasn’t anything extraordinary but you can see the temptation to touch his arms.

Meanwhile Harry watches you eye him. It was kind of funny to him. He didn’t know why Claire’s best friend always remained at the end of the night but she was easy to talk to so he didn’t mind. Better than pretending to be interested in whatever Dylan’s tech-bros were talking about.

He hadn’t actually seen Dylan in a while. Probably off with Claire, he thinks with a sigh.

“Yeah nevermind.” Harry hears you say. It’s then he realized he’d tuned you out while his brain had been running. And you had taken his sigh as a response to what you were explaining.

The conversation falls flat after that. And when Harry goes for another drink you decline, deciding it was time to head home.

Surprisingly, Harry says he could use the time away and walks you to the station. Claire was spending the night but mostly he just wanted out of the flat. Walking you a few blocks away was a good enough excuse.

***

A few weeks go by before you find yourself alone with Harry again. It was someone’s birthday, or two people’s. You forgot what exactly was the excuse you took to get out of the house. All you had to know was there were people and an open bar.

Again, you started off in a group but couples drifted away until the two of you remained. You had been standing in Harry’s blind spot so when the last couple leaves, he notices it was you.

“Hey.” Harry says to you but his eyes look out into the room, even his body faces the crowd’s direction. He should have known you were here after seeing Claire cozy up with Dylan.

It should make you feel shittier but you’re almost used to it. After a week of working from home hunched over your table editing photos for yesterday’s deadline you would take any social interaction. No matter how stale. Or soggy.

“Hey!” You elbow him so he looks at you at least. “It's been a while hasn’t it? How’s life treating you these days?”

“Yeah, it's fine.”

“Cool, yeah. Any exciting projects keeping you busy lately or…?”

“Not really. Just the usual keeping me busy right now. Same old routine y’know.”

“Right, right.” You could feel him slip away again. “Yeah. Work can be a drag. I’m pretty sure I gave myself scoliosis being hunched over for 10 hours a day this week. I’d rather fold laundry than do that again, and you probably don’t know this, but I absolute hate folding laundry. But yeah that’s my thrilling life. Anything you've been doing in your free time?”

“Nah. Just trying to stay on top of work.”

“Right.” He was the busiest man on earth apparently. “So everyone at the party’s talking about the new Love Island season. You watch it?”

“Not really into TV these days. Busy with work and all that?”

“Right. You mentioned. I did too.” You nod. “I had a lot of deadlines this week so very busy too. Busy busy. I actually got so stir-crazy I started talking to my plants? It felt silly, but my nan was saying it does help them grow so…it’s a win-win. Or maybe it’s the isolation makes you appreciate the little things…”

“Right.” Harry nods along. He’s looked at you twice this whole time. Well, glanced was more like it. And suddenly you want to scream because it was utterly unfair that you only knew him at any of these godforsaken parties. And he never wanted to talk to you, or cared to.

You’d seen him with Dylan, even with Claire! He was more animated and interested then, even though he stammered through half of it. Was there something wrong with you that put you in gray-scale in this crowd of colourful people?

You’re not Claire, the stupid voice in your head reminds you.

I didn’t need to be Claire, you remind yourself.

“So what about that girl you fancied?” You try to ask him something he might be interested in; you hated how desperate you were getting for company. “From uni? Anything come of that?”

“What?” He finally looks at you. “Oh her. No she uhm. Well embarrassing but she has a bloke. I misread the whole thing-“

“You said she was all touchy!”

“Yeah she was wasn’t she?” He scratches his head. “I dunno, i suppose she’s always been like that. So yeah, nothing happened there.”

He chuckles like he’s embarrassed, yet the smile brightens his face. It makes you a little more upset and you don’t know why.

“Maybe you dodged a bullet. Anyway. I’m gonna make some rounds. I’ll catch you around-“

“What?” He actually turns to you now. “Why?”

“What?!”

“Why you leaving?”

“I’m not leaving. I’m just doing a circle. And getting another drink.”

“Oh,” his shoulders drop a little. You’re confused, because he didn’t seem interested in having you around at all until you were leaving. “Good.”

“I didn’t think you’d miss me if I was gone with your half-ass answers.” You say before you can think. He looks a little stupefied.

“Half-ass?”

“Or were you just being a whole ass?”

“Huh?” He closes the gap between you again. “I was listening to what you were talking about.”

“Yeah. Just listening. It felt like having a conversation with paint while it dried.”

“I’d think that’s better than houseplants?”

You’re a bit stunned—he had been listening. But still. He wasn’t keeping up conversation.

“Now see if you made a joke about it back then it would have been funny. A back-and-forth conversation? Now it’s just a desperate attempt to keep me around. I don’t know what for.”

“It’s not desperate,” he argues. “I didn’t realize you’re so needy.”

You raise a brow, “I am not needy.”

“I think you are,” he grins and with his full attention on you and that stupidly smarmy grin you feel that pull again. Too bad it was just one-sided.

“I’m not. I’ll prove it by leaving your presence for good tonight. See you next time Harry.”

“Don’t be like that,” he calls after you. “And I like to keep you around because I thought we were friends!”

Your stride falters as you’re walking away. You weren’t expecting him to say that.

But wasn’t he just friends because both your friends were dating each other?

What are you even doing here with these people, the thought comes back to you again. The same one that always floated through your mind being in these sorts of places.

If Claire wasn’t dating Dylan you wouldn’t even be here. God, you needed to hang out with friends other than Claire.

***

You unwrap the belt that ties your coat closed and drop it all to the floor. Well not all, your cameras get let down gently.

Your shoulders ached. And your back and your head and your arms. Jeez.

You had a wedding gig that was paying most of this month’s rent, so you had to take it. The only thing is your job started at 6am and ended at 8pm. That was more than half a day and you were spent.

“Hey you’re home!” Claire waves at you as you pass her. She has her phone held out in front of her face, you hear Dylan’s voice on the other end.

“Is that yn? Hii!”

“Hi,” you croak to Dylan. Claire juts her lip out at the sight of you.

“I’ve already done dinner,” she says over the top of the screen. “I’m going out with Dylan and some friends later you wanna come?”

You shake your head. She knows what a low battery yn looked like.

“Okay fine. Leftovers are in the fridge for you.”

“God I love you,” you tell her as you close your bedroom door behind you and collapse into bed.

You liked it when Claire was happy in a relationship, or whatever she called them, but when she wasn’t these were the nights she’d follow you into your room after a big shoot and ask about the details. And you’d complain about the pushy customers eventually moving to how beautiful everything was. She was usually the first person to see your raw images.

But tonight while she talks to Dylan you turn on your humidifier and let the low hushing noise lull you into a relaxing trance. You remember that you only had yourself. That you had to learn to be happy with that, lonely or not.

***

Claire promised to do kitchen duty for the whole week if you came out to Jemima’s partner’s gig. And you couldn’t deny a week of no dishes or meal prep, so you drag your ass out the door despite riding on 4 hours of sleep for the last few nights. But you met your deadline this afternoon so this was as good of a celebration as any. Even if it was a Thursday night.

“So you and Dylan are getting serious huh?” You ask Claire on the tube over.

“Kinda?”

“It’s been over 3 months. Half the time you were with you know who.”

You-know-who, her one relationship that actually meant something to her. Crashed and burned two years ago.

“No,” she blushes. “It’s just, he’s pretty great but we don’t really talk about labels.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Guys always run when you do.”

Do you want that sort of guy, you want to ask. Instead you shrug, “let them.”

She rolls her eyes, accustomed to your biting remarks around men.

The gig is electrifying as soon as you arrive. It gets you moving and your sedentary body remembers it has more flex in it than just your wrist. You’re alive and sweaty a few hours later, happy that you went.

“Hey,” Claire says when you drift back to her. “Dylan said the drummer’s inviting some friends to the place she’s staying at. Wanna come?”

“Yeah! Let’s go!” You were high on just being out and around people, the loneliness had been kept at bay, and you didn’t want to ruin that by going home just yet.

The drummer’s place is the bottom floor of a quaint house near Portobello. Most people are already there by the time you trail in behind Claire and Dylan.

“Look there’s Harry!” Claire shouts, pointing to the figure that was become too familiar to you. He’s listening intently to the couple in front of him. Nice to know he could do that.

You flash her a thumbs up. But her and Dylan start walking towards them. Ugh!

You eye the room, thinking you could make a run-in with alcohol instead of Harry but he looks up at the approaching couple and catches your eye. He waves.

Whatever.

The four of you eventually find a quieter room, mostly because there was a hookah circle going on and everyone there was talking in hushed voices. A stark contrast to the volume in the den.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you here.” Harry says when the two of you find yourselves alone again.

“Why not?”

“You didn’t show the last couple times we all hung out. I thought you were tired of us.”

“Maybe I am.” You raise your brow. “Did you miss me?”

“Hey!” Dylan appears in front of you two again before he could answer. “Nish is here, I heard.”

“Nish?” Harry becomes all fidgety.

“Who’s Nish?” You have to ask.

“Someone we know,” Dylan says. You look for Claire and she’s making her way to you. But before she gets there another body steps towards your group.

“Hi! Harry look at you—and Dylan, is it just me or you look more hideous than last time?” The girl cuts in and you take a step back instinctively. The group felt overcrowded.

You watch the two boys hug the new girl, Nish you assume, in greeting.

Claire approaches the group with curiosity.

Introductions are made and Dylan offers to show Nish the drinks.

Then there were three.

“She’s pretty,” you comment. You know Harry agrees what with how much he resembled a ruler.

“Yeah,” he nods stiffly.

“So were you at the gig Harry?” Claire changes the subject. “It was amazing.”

“Yeah! I was there with Dylan and some friends. Surprised I didn’t see you two.”

“Were you dancing?” Claire teases.

“I was,” he blushes. He glances at you. You recall that first night when the two of you had a lot of fun just dancing. “Maybe that’s why I missed you guys.”

You give a small smile at the in-joke. He looks back to Claire.

You all talk about the gig, and then a little about someone similar Harry was working with.

Eventually Claire wonders aloud where Dylan had gotten to and leaves.

And then there were two.

“I get this feeling something’s going to happen,” you say.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks.

You shrug, you didn’t quite know. The whole night was moving so fast, especially after the gig. You just had a sense you missed something and it was bothering you.

“Have you got a drink yet?” Harry asks.

“No, maybe I should.”

“Me too. I’m done mine. I think I want another.”

As you walk down the hall to where it might logically be, you hear a shout. Your stomach drops. Was this it?

“I’m sorry wait!” Someone shouts over the noise. The overall noise dies down a bit quieter. “It’s not what it-“

“Fuck off! I’m done!”

“Shite,” you recognized Claire’s voice anywhere. You rush past Harry and towards the voices.

You find Dylan shirtless and holding it against his chest. Nish is a little ways behind him, hair a lot messier than when you last saw her. Buttons undone on her dress.

You notice the lipstick on Dylan’s neck. A colour Claire would never wear.

Everything snaps into place.

You rush to Claire and try to comfort her but she hurls more insults towards Dylan over your shoulder. You manage to get her out of his sight and she fights you too, she was seething with anger.

“He’s a dick!” She screams. “Why did I think he was going to be any different oh my god! I shouldn’t have let him go alone with her, what was I thinking? Yn! Why didn’t you stop me!”

You knew it was all rhetorical. Claire rarely took romantic advice from you.

“He tried to say we weren’t even a couple I-“ her voice catches and then comes the tears. You pull her in, familiar with the routine. Next would be feeling sorry for herself, then the anger again, then telling you she needed to be alone. Then a few hours would pass before she crawled back to needing comfort again.

And it happens just so.

“I don’t need a mother right now!” Claire says as you convince her to stay with you. To head home. “I just need to clear my head! I’m sorry okay I just want to be alone!”

And you let her go.

And now you had to kill time.

You find a beer and down it. Someone nearby asks you what the drama was about and you strike up a conversation that ends in them trying to kiss you. Ew.

You wander until you find Harry again. He’s surprised you’re still here. Asks where Claire was but as you respond one of the girls from the band recognizes Harry—you’re pretty sure her name is Kate. Soon enough you’re sidelined while they talk about something you knew nothing about.

Well fuck him too, you think miserably.

You grab one of the few remaining cans and head to the back of the house. Past open doors and closed doors. The closed door intrigues you at the end of the hall.

The doorknob is stuck so you wiggle it. Probably locked.

You were tired. God, you were tired of it all.

In a moment of anger you bang your shoulder against the door and magically it opens.

It wasn’t locked, just stuck due to age.

Same, you think.

Inside is the smallest room you’ve ever seen. The size of 1.5 closets. There looks like a childs bed, the walls are covered in posters, and there’s a small set of drawers with a guitar resting on top. It’s cramped but cozy, something about it feels familiar.

You step inside and close the door.

Down goes another beer.

You hope the person who owned the room didn’t mind you crashing it. You lay in bed and let out a big sigh. And then another. It felt good. Cleansing.

You listen to the noises outside, people laughing and talking. You think about Claire. About yourself. All of your several issues combined. The dull ache of loneliness starts in your ribcage and spreads out.

The door handle rattles a few times but eventually you realize nobody’s angry enough to smash it open like you. Most people assumed it’s locked and leave.

You’re taken by surprise then the door does creak open a smidge.

Distant light travels through to paint a multi-coloured line across the floor and over the bed. You lift your fingers to touch it but it feels like everything else.

“Of course you’re in here; I wondered where you went to.” Harry reveals his face by opening the door wider, poking his head in. It looks like it’s floating and the image almost makes you laugh. Almost.

“Why?” You ask in your most disinterested voice.

He takes the question, despite it dripping with apathy, as an invitation. The door remains opened a crack, now just with Harry on the inside.

“Because you disappeared.”

“You started talking to Kate so I made my exit. Did she go home?”

“No.” He inches closer after closing the door. You have no idea how he knew exactly where you were and how to get in. With the door closed it’s not so dark that you can’t make out his figure. But he’s a shadow in the dark.

“Can you sit or something? It’s kind of creepy having you hover like that in the dark.”

“Sorry,” he laughs and again, he overextends the invitation and lays parallel to you. He’s close, with the bed being so small. Your ache spreads. “Kate’s dancing with another bloke.”

“Poor Harry.” You mock. “Every pretty lady wants to dance with someone else.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I have this special ability to read between the lines.”

“Well my specialty is reading between the sheets.”

The comment lands like a third person on the bed. It’s a withering creature a cross between a baby and a calf. He scoops it off with, “sorry. I really don’t know where that came from.”

You laugh. It was so silly for something so bold to come out of his mouth.

“It’s fine. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you be that bold before. Usually I just watch you fumble around and finish up thoughts inside your head instead of out loud-“

“I do do that don’t I?”

“You said do do,” you giggle.

“Very mature.”

“Very manure.” Your giggles turn into a laugh, something’s cracked inside of you and it feels funnier than it probably is.

Harry nudges you with his elbow and it silences your laugh. It’s abrupt, and he notices. “Why’d you come in here anyway?” He asks. “I thought you’d be with Claire.”

“Were you looking for her? You could be with Claire now y’know,” you say. Some part of you knew you’re tipsy and you should shut up but in the darkness your cutting words feel blunted.

“What’s that mean?”

“Dylan the dick—that’s his new nickname just fyi. He fumbled the bag. She’s free for the taking now.”

“I feel like this violates some sort of girl-code. Shouldn’t you be warning me away?”

You scoff, “Harry don’t be coy. Everyone knows you tried to get together that first night we all met. You always look at her like a lost puppy.”

“I don’t.”

“Do so.”

“What’s it to you?“

You shrug. He’s close enough to feel it.

You were upset tonight. Angry. Angry at Dylan for being another a-hole. Angry at Claire for putting yet another man on a pedestal with all his potential he could never reach. They hadn’t labelled themselves for 3 months, what did she expect would happen?

Mostly you were upset at yourself. Because a part of you watched Claire put herself out there over and over, and you were upset that you couldn’t do the same. That your shallow bruises compares to Claire’s gashes had kept you locked up in your bedroom.

You admit it to yourself then: you kind of liked Harry. And you totally and absolutely hated it.

Because you watched him watch Claire, fumble his words with every woman you catch him with, push him away just so you don’t potentially get hurt. A part of you knows he wouldn’t like you like that. He treats you like you’re part of the furniture half the time. He’s given no indication of the sort. And you just weren’t the kind of girl to leave a confession like that hanging. You didn’t want a public unrequited crush.

It comes again. The wave of loneliness, the feeling that nobody ever has or ever will understand you. That you were an island with no dock, a house with no door. You were unknowable, and unforgettable.

“Why don’t I ever hear about your relationship exploits?” Harry suddenly asks. You forgot he was there and you startle. “Sorry were you falling asleep?”

“No.” You answer. “And because…because I’m not showy about that sort of thing. And it also doesn’t happen as often as you or Claire or Dylan the dick.”

“Wow the name’s really gonna stay.”

“Mhm.”

“Do you have a boyfriend now?”

“Nope.”

“What’s your last actual relationship?”

“A long time ago.”

“Me too.” He sighs. “My last proper girlfriend was in my early 20s. She moved city. We broke up after that, long-distance is hard. I feel like every year I age, I get worse at talking to women.”

“I can confirm.”

“Well not you. You’re easy to talk to.”

“Thanks,” you say dryly.

“Not like that.” He backtracks, sitting up as if you could see his face. “No not like that. You’re…nice. To look at. I don’t mean that I don’t see you as a women—because you are. I see that I uhm-“

“I think you’ll have to take back your previous statement.”

His head falls back on his pillow and he laughs, it sounds like he’s choking on air a little.

“Jeez, what was that?” He asks once he pulls himself together.

“Beats me,” you say with a smirk.

“It gets pretty lonely though right.”

You let his statement sit in the dark. You don’t agree or disagree. Doing so felt like admitting something vulnerable.

“Or maybe that’s just me.” He says after a while. “Maybe you have a great life and don’t fall in love with every other person you meet.”

“Do you actually?” Your interest was piqued.

“I can’t help it. I’m a musician, I just notice something small about them and suddenly a song is being written about them in my head without even realizing. So I just fall in love with a lot of random people. And I uhm, I don’t think I’ve ever admitted that to anyone!”

It was the dark. It was easier to be honest in it. No wonder churches kept their confessions in darkened corners.

You think about all the regular people you fall in love with every time you lift your camera to your face. How every person made you ache; there were whole worlds going on inside of them and you saw it all through the lens.

You wonder briefly if Harry ever wrote a song about you in his head but squash it. He barely took the time to look at you, definitely not long enough to notice you like you did him.

“Here’s my confession—same.” You try for the confession-in-the-dark thing. To make him feel better. “At least when I’m taking photos or making videos. Some people get camera shy but after talking to them they loosen up and getting to capture their whole essence in a picture or a video I just…makes me fall in love too. I like to imagine what everyone would be like in front of a camera. I dunno.”

“What a pair we make.” Harry reaches out and his hand brushes yours. You pull away, hating yourself while you do.

He clears his throat when you reject his bid to be closer, you feel his hand slide back to himself.

Harry didn’t know why sometimes it felt like you hated him and other times like you were friends. He just figured he didn’t understand women. On any spectrum.

“Y/n,” your name is loaded in the dark. You wait for him to continue but the silence stretches out.

“What?” You finally ask.

You feel the bed shift and move under you. He was turning. You feel his gaze on you. You turn your head to look back and he’s inches away. Alarms blare in your head, abort abort! But even in the darkness his eyes find some light to reflect.

Harry’s thinking the same thing about you. Somehow it’s dark but when you turn your head to look at him, your eyes twinkle with what little moonlight streams in from the window. Or maybe that was the streetlights. Either way, Harry wonders why it felt like this was the first time he’s ever seen you. How ironic that it’s in the dark too.

It happens without realizing, his mind starts to string together something about the girl laying in his bed shrouded in darkness, with light in her eyes. A girl with secrets-

The bed vibrates.

“Oh,” you turn away and take the intimate moment with you. You feel around and find your phone beside you. Claire’s face lights up the screen.

“Claire,” you sit up.

“I’m ready to go home,” Claire sniffles on the other end. “Where are you?”

“At the party. You’re still at the party right?”

“I’m just outside. I got some chips but I couldn’t find you so I finished them all.”

You laugh, “Lie. I know how you feel about sharing chips don’t worry.”

Harry watches you have this conversation. Your laugh finds its way right into his chest. He feels warm.

You look at him and hold your finger up, shimming off the foot of the bed.

“You bought two!?” You ask after Claire sniffles about how much she emotionally ate tonight.

“It’s your fault! I ate two because I couldn’t find you and they were getting cold.”

“Well I’m coming outside to save you now.”

You put the phone down and look back at Harry. He’s sat up in the bed and staring at you.

“I gotta go weirdo.”

“Yeah,” he says.

“Well…I dunno if we’ll see each other as much now that-“

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“So good luck? Until next time?” You laugh, but an awkwardness starts to creep in as Harry stays unresponsive and staring on the bed. “Uhm. Okay?? Bye…”

You leave Harry as he is. Did he get all weird because Claire was on the phone? Ugh. What a liar, you think. He was still just as obsessed with her.

You feel a little bad for goading him about it earlier but it doesn’t linger long. When you see Claire you gather her up in your arms and then the two of you set off arm-in-arm back to your small flat together.

***

“So what’s happening with Kate?” Dylan asks. Harry and him are sat at the pub a few weeks later, he’s already moved on from Claire to the girl on his arm. He didn’t know how his friend did it, if Harry had a girl like Claire he wouldn’t treat her like she was disposable.

But thinking of Claire didn’t have that same spark anymore. When he thought about it, she was beautiful and spirited, the kind of woman musicians like him write songs about. But there was someone else on his mind, the kind of woman someone could spend their whole career trying to compartmentalize into songs. Songs turning into albums. Only to find nothing beats her living spirit.

How could he be so dumb, he’d been beating himself up since that night in the dark. He’d had 3 months of being around her and he never actually looked at her. Always took her for granted. God, even that first night together had been the most fun Harry had had in ages. But he’d just turned her into a friend by proximity.

But weeks gone without her, knowing there was only pure chance of bumping into her, had made Harry a regretful heart.

“Hello? Did you scare her off?” Dylan asks.

“Nah. She’s not my type.” Harry responds.

“Harry I should set you up with one of my mates. She’d be perfect for you. She’s a teacher and…”

Harry listens to Dylan’s new girl describe a friend Harry couldn’t be arsed to go out with. All because he wanted something he couldn’t have anymore.

***

Harry runs into Claire at a pub a week later. His hopes soar as high as the sky when he thinks y/n might be here.

“Hi! Claire!” Harry awkwardly stops her as she walks past the bar where he sits. He was waiting for a few of his mates to watch the football match with. Dylan was luckily out of town today, otherwise this pub would have it’s roof blown off.

“Oh Harry hi,” she’s friendly. Harry didn’t think she’d be friendly towards him. She leans in for a hug. “How’ve you been?”

“Good! Ehm good yeah just making more music and stuff. You?”

“Better,” she rolls her eyes. “How’s Dylan the-“

“I’d rather not be in the middle. If that’s alright.” Harry says before he can think. He knew what his friend was, he didn’t want to talk about him.

“Fine.” She crosses her arms. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Watching the game?”

“Sorta. My family’s down and I know y/n hates the ruckus my brothers make watching the game at home so I’m sticking them here.”

“Oh y/n’s not here?” Harry feels his hope evaporating.

“No. What’s the deal with you and her anyway? Why didn’t you ever…?”

“Y/n?”

“Yeah!”

“She’s not interested in me,” Harry laughs. He was also blind but he doesn’t say that.

“I mean, maybe not crazily but if you asked she would have said yes. She didn’t hate you.”

“Is that the standard now?” Harry jokes.

“It is with her,” she smiles with a look in her eye like there was more there. But of course, Harry doesn’t push.

“I…I dunno. I never thought she would be interested. It never occurred to me.”

“You’re such a guy,” she scolds. “You have anyone now or you’re still regularly putting your foot in your mouth?”

Harry flushes. “I don’t. And I don’t put my foot in my mouth.”

She rolls her eyes but the smile stays on her face. “Anyway, I’m grabbing the beers. I’ll talk to you later?”

Harry nods, suddenly unable to just ask for y/n’s number. Anything.

But as she walks away he realizes he’d had a whole conversation with Claire without overthinking or being a fumbling idiot once.

He thinks back, to the last couple weeks. He realizes it’s been a while since he’s done it.

Was I finally turning a corner, Harry thinks.

***

You had a gig today filming at a studio. Some indie duo but they were gaining popularity on Tiktok and wanted some bts footage of working in the studio for an upcoming music video. You weren’t going to ask questions. It paid decent money so you said yes.

You pull into the parking lot, grateful that Claire had a car you could borrow. It helped lugging around your equipment for videoshoots. Today it was just you as your PA was out sick. It wasn’t supposed to be a lot of angles so you figured it would be okay.

You consider the day a win by the time you pack up. The group were much younger than you but very outgoing and it made for a lot of funny and sweet footage. They also had amazing voices, you told them they were going on your playlists once you got home.

Your right hand goes weightless as you walk with your bags down the hall. You turn just as the helper speaks up.

“Looked like you could use a hand.”

“Harry I…what a surprise hi!” Your mood brightens at the sight of him, despite everything.

“Hi,” he shifts the bag in his hand to return your hug. His body is solid and warm. It made no sense but you missed something about him. “How was your shoot?”

“Really good! I was shooting a…wait how did you know?”

“I saw you in there?”

“I didn’t see you.”

“Yeah I um-“

“You had nothing to do with this right?”

“And if I did?” He meets your eye and you feel out of breath with whatever speaks through them. What was up with that?

“Uhmm I owe you a thank you!?!”

Harry offers a small smile, “I was looking at your work a couple weeks back. You’re really good. I just threw your name out to a few managers if they were looking for someone…”

Harry looks different with this new information. Or maybe this was a Harry that was actually paying attention to you, it was both intimidating and touching.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks.

“No! No, thank you I…that’s…I’m grateful. Thank you. Can I get you a drink to say thanks?”

“Okay cuz your face was all scrunched up. I thought you were pissed.” He laughs. “And I have some things to finish up-“

“Oh right, you’re probably busy-“

“No no I would love to. Get drinks. With you.” Harry grows more awkward as the air between you crackles with something electric. Maybe, he thought, this is what happens when two people are on the same wavelength.

“Ok. Well when do you finish?”

Harry doesn’t quite hear your question. His head feels flooded with sand and he can’t stop looking at you, right in front of him finally. Why did he never notice your eyes and the way they take him in, your sweetness, the easygoing tilt of your head, or how how disarming your smile was. He chalked it up to being an idiot.

“Wait what-“ he laughs, feeling the blood flush his face. He was doing that thing again, where his brain stopped thinking in the attention of a pretty girl. “What’d you ask?”

“When you finish?” You ask, suddenly feeling shy yourself. You can feel the element of nervousness from him and it made this casual moment feel more intense.

“Maybe half hour?” Harry scratches his nose. “Are you heading somewhere now? You can hang out with me and we can go together?”

You thought about getting to see him work, it sounded promising. “Sure!”

Harry wipes his palm on his jeans and walks ahead, leading you down the hall and to the right. He opens it to a recording studio, gesturing to the chairs and taking the seat behind all the buttons. You set your things down and stand by the panel, curious what each of the controls did.

Harry glances up at you and you shoot a smile, about to ask if it was okay you watch, but he goes back to work just as quickly.

He was working on something that sounded like a pop song. You try to make out all the layers on the software he was using, it kind of looked the same when you edited a video. But there’s too many layers to distinguish.

Eventually you sit back down, admiring Harry in his element. Your mind drifts, and you wonder if everything that happened out in the hallway was a figment of your imagination or Harry was being weird with you. Because the thing about Harry being weird meant he was in his head about one thing.

You wonder, like you did every so often, what could have happened that night in the dark the last time you saw him if Claire hadn’t called. Harry had looked at you like he had just met you—with a good curiosity.

But then again, this was the same Harry that probably looked at Claire with the same look.

“Done.” Harry turns in his swivel chair with a grin an hour or so later.

“Great!” You shake off your thoughts and set your laptop down.

“Did you want to leave your things here?”

“I have a car I can put them in?”

“The place I was gonna take you to isn’t that far from here.”

So you agree, and leave your equipment in the studio. The two of you walk out, talking about what he was working on. He asks you about your shoot today and the conversation carries you to the pub he had picked out.

Conversation starts to fizzle out as you tuck into your booth seat.

“What you guys getting today?” The waitress appears almost instantly, it startles you.

You look at the menu and to her. She’s got a beautiful face, round cheeks framed by micro bangs and night-black eyebrows that made her look permanently unimpressed. And yet her rosy cheeks and button nose were a friendly addition to the severity of the rest of her.

You glance at Harry, ready for him to be a bumbling idiot around her. He glances at you from the menu when he senses you looking over and for a second you feel the loneliness creep in. Despite the warm smile he sends your way.

“Can we get a few more minutes?” Harry asks her. She pockets her things without another word and walks away.

“What’s good here?” You ask to fill the silence.

The two of you go over the menu and by the time the waitress returns you’re ready. You watch Harry ask her questions and place the order, confident and direct. His eyes slide to yours every so often and each time they do you feel your resolve slip a little more.

“What’s changed then Harry?” You tease when she leaves. You tease, but you seriously want to know. “I thought you’d be a puddle of words around a woman that gorgeous.”

“Her?” Harry glances back. “I guess. I’m not such a mess.”

“Oh you so are.” You laugh. “You’re all ums and uhs.”

“I’m…fine. I’m not so bad anymore!”

“Yeah so? What happened?”

He looks at you with such a serious look that your smile dies down.

“Drinks,” the waitress places them down on the table, saving the both of you from whatever would have come next.

“Thanks,” you tell her and pull the distraction towards you.

“Let’s just say,” Harry says after she leaves. “I gained some perspective.”

You raise an eyebrow, not wanting to push it any more. “Okay.”

For the first time in a while, your nerves overtake the anxious discomfort you usually lived with. Something was definitely happening here—you weren’t hallucinating. But you weren’t sure where it was going, and if you wanted it.

Of course you want it, stop convincing yourself otherwise, you tell yourself.

Why did vulnerability feel like facing mount everest in just your pjs.

“I bumped into Claire a few weeks ago, she seems to be doing well.” Harry says and you can’t help but overanalyze for a heartbeat. He’d brought Claire up after all.

“Oh she didn’t mention,” you reply.

“She was with her family? Said you kicked them out of the flat-“

“Oh!” You laugh. “Yeah her brothers get stupidly rowdy when the football’s on. This one time I had an interview early the next morning and—this was before I knew how loud they could get. And I was up. Until 2am nearly to tears! Finally I snapped, they call it the y/n-geddon. Then of course I felt so bad I couldn’t sleep for another two hours. Now we just draw boundaries.”

Harry laughs at your story. “Sounds scary. Now it makes sense though.”

“Better for everyone,” you laugh. “But yeah. Claire’s been good, it was nice her family was down she’s always more herself when they do.”

Your food arrives and you put the conversation on pause as you tuck in.

“How about you?” Harry asks. “Your family?”

You tell him about your family and the conversation moves on to moving out, living in the city. It branches out naturally like a tree, and both of you relax into each other’s company.

It was really nice, you admit to yourself. It felt like talking to an actual person rather than the shell of someone. Which is how it felt like talking to Harry in the past. The only soggy bread was the butty dipped in your soup.

You pay, as you insist it was to thank him for the help. It’s cooler out when you had back to the studio for your things and there’s more people out; those free of their office jobs and roaming for a drink to relax into.

The studio’s empty and you head towards your bags, asking Harry if he was heading home too.

“Yeah, I’ve been here since 6 so I think I’m ready to go home.”

“Shite that’s early!”

“Deadlines!” He sighs. “What can ya do.”

“Can I give you a ride somewhere at least?”

“If you’re going in the direction of the station I’ll hop in.”

“Yeah sure!”

“Good thing you have a car with all that equipment.”

“Yeah my thoughts this morning. But that reminds me of all the footage I have to edit.” You say. “Thanks to you.”

“Anytime. Anytime y/n. I’m gonna keep whispering your name around. You’ll be fully booked soon just watch and see.”

“You don’t have to,” you set your things back on the ground. It didn’t seem like Harry was in a hurry to get out.

“I want to,” he replies seriously. The room feels smaller than it did seconds ago, or maybe the awareness of Harry’s proximity tightened the space between you.

“Thanks,” you try to meet his eye as you say it but it’s hard to. His gaze strips away any doubt you had; his feelings are written all over his face. All you could think was: Holy Fuck what is this

“It’s my pleasure,” he says which just sucks any remaining oxygen out of the room.

When you’re on autopilot you don’t even think, you just go through the motions. That’s what it felt like, one second you’re standing opposite Harry. The next you’re standing right in front of him and his lips are on yours.

Maybe you just imagined this scene so much it became repetitive and now this—kissing him, felt so familiar.

He’s nothing like the timid and awkward Harry you watch at parties and pubs. He’s sure of himself, kissing you in the exact way to soothe your past aches; your loneliness is washed away like ocean tides over words etched in the sand. You get lost in it. In him.

You don’t know when his hands slide around your waist and pull you in. His lips are soft and gentle. Your mind blanks as the sensation of being held, of his touch, spreads. You don’t realize you stop kissing back, just for a second, until he pulls away.

Harry takes a deep breath, face pink and brows furrowed. This felt right, but was he reading it wrong? He did that often.

You take a small step back, needing the space to process. It felt right, better than your imagination, and you couldn’t deny the pull you felt to him.

“So um,” you bite your lip. “You still want that ride?”

“Where is it going?” He asks, the tightness in his chest easing a little when you look up at him, head tilted and a nervous expression on. He wasn’t reading it wrong. Both of you were just a little overwhelmed.

“Anywhere you want it to. I was thinking it could go home.”

“Mmm,” he nods. “Home sounds nice.”

With a smile exchanged, he lifts most of your equipment to the car. You have to take a beat outside the car just to force your brain to go from scrambled to whole so you can manage the drive home. It took every ounce of concentration.

Claire’s not home when you get there and you’re so grateful for that. Firstly, you just wanted to get him back into your bedroom. Secondly, you wanted this just between the two of you. At least for today.

You drop her a text in case, like you two usually did. You tell her you had company over.

The rest of the night can be spent uninterrupted.

You set everything in the living room and take Harry back to your bedroom.

He looks around curiously, taking in the photos on the walls and the things on the dresser.

You watch him, feeling a little exposed. he was looking. Seeing. You. It was different. Good different.

Harry looks at you with a question and you answer by closing the space between you; he reaches his arms out and your body is engulfed by him. Your lips meet, this time less hesitant.

It’s not long before Harry pulls you towards the bed, falling backwards with you on top of him. You straddle his hips and kiss him like a teenager. You feel his fingers brush your waist and tug at the bottom of your top.

It’s off in an instant and you try to hide the smile as Harry takes in the sight of you, his eyes filling with awe. He was such a dork. But it made you feel empowered, and seen. You reach for his shirt and he lets you take it off.

When you lean forward again, chests pressed together, his hands find the small of your back. They trace circles there, sending shivers up your spine.

You take the cue and kiss him slowly, rocking your hips against him. He gasps, his hands tightening as you trail kisses along his neck.

The sounds he makes go straight to your core and you feel the familiar flutter that tells you to hurry. You move back, undoing his jeans and helping him slide them off.

“You’re alright with this?” He breathes into your skin.

Your heart thuds in your ribcage, but mostly from anticipation; you never realized how long you wanted this for. Wanted him.

“Of course,” you pause and so does he. “Took you long enough.”

With a wry smile he covers your mouth with his and soon the two of you find a rhythm that no song could compete with. You find company in someone you’d sworn could never be yours.

It’s bliss.

***

The sun filters through the window and casts a warm light across your floor.

You were in your own bed, and in the middle of the mattress with a leg thrown over the edge was Harry, sound asleep. Tbe weight of his arm over your waist and the steady sound of his breathing is the proof you needed that this was real. He was real.

The two of you hadn't bothered to get dressed last night. It was an unspoken understanding that this wasn’t the end.

You turn onto your side; it was a nice view.

It was a nice morning, actually. The first morning in a while where you not only woke to a warm body, but one that felt like it belonged. That wasn’t going anywhere

Claire must be somewhere in the flat, you realize. You hadn’t heard her come in.

Harry starts to stir as light fills the room. His eyes squint open and his left hand comes up to cover his face.

You reach over to run your fingers through his hair and he sighs, his face relaxing into a smile.

Harry turns to you, eyes finally open and alert and your heart thumps happily.

There was no need for words.

You snuggle closer and he wraps an arm around you. You bury your face into his neck and breathe in his scent.

He laughs quietly, his chest rumbling under you. You kiss him and he responds in kind.

This time there was no rush.

The morning was warm, and so were you.

5 months later

You get there early, you wanted a moment before the guests to take in your accomplishment. Sure you’d been published on websites and magazines before. Your dream has always been to live forever on an album cover. And you’d finally done it.

The venue was a sparkly room thanks to all the disco balls. They contrasted against the rich fabric and wood beams all over the space.

You take a ton of pictures to send to your friends and family.

You mingle with guests as they come in, trying not to give in too much to the hollowed out feeling that came with a string of strangers and the tiresome small talk. You smile and introduce yourself, you know this was how connections were made. In rooms like this.

You feel him come in as you give in to a second drink. You’re at the bar, and your eyes lift up to the entrance and there’s Harry. Your Harry.

Harry’s eyes skim the crowd looking for someone. His someone. No other person mattered until he could locate her. That’s how it felt these days. A million faces could blur by but hers was the one he looked for every time.

He sees her. Looking at him. Of course she’s already spotted him.

You watch as his face splits into an eager smile, his hand raising above his head.

Harry was like fresh lemonade poured into a cup of ice, all of the tiring talks and fake smiles from before vanish as you drink him in. He’s looking at you, only you. You’re looking at only him.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says as a greeting.

“That’s alright,” you peck his lips. “I was just taking a breather.”

“Is the band here? My phone died on the ride so I couldn’t check in.”

“I thought I saw one of them somewhere in that crowd,” you point to the right.

Harry had gotten you this gig. It was the third thing he’d helped you get and slowly you were able to take on less and less wedding and marketing jobs and focus on the music industry. It filled your days and nights with passion-fuelled hard work. You loved every second of it.

And when you weren’t working, you spent time with Harry. It had been 5 months since you started dating. Neither of you questioned what your labels were. You just knew there was nothing else you two could be.

You teased him a lot, how he took the long way to finally recognize the truth. But he made up for it all the time. He made sure you knew how you were the only one for him.

“That is one perfect album,” Harry slips his hand around your waist. Your photograph is blown out to a tapestry and hangs in the middle of the space. It was a sophomore album for the band and with their debut a hit, this tapestry was going to be signed and auctioned. Eventually it would sit somewhere, your photograph, coveted as a piece of music history.

“This is unreal,” you squeeze Harry. “How amazing is it that we both got to work on this album in our own specialties?”

“A perfect match I’d say,” he kisses you.

“What a pair we make,” you grin.

“I see many more shared projects in our future,” Harry promises.

“I’d like that.” It was one of the things you loved about being with Harry, your creativity and how both of you shared a similar industry at times. It brought you closer together, swapping ideas and stories.

“One day I’m going to need album art for the EP I release.”

“Ooh yes,” you clutch his arm. Lately Harry has been spending some times with his head in a brand new notebook, he said he was working on his personal project. “I can’t wait for that day. I have so many ideas of styling you.”

You had a particular image that sat on your phone from the very first night you met. One where he’s dancing alone in a crowd, red lighting casting half his face in shadow and the other in a vibrant scarlet. His eyes are closed and his brows scrunched as his body flows with movement, even in a still picture. You adored it. It was one of the best photos you ever took.

“Me?” Harry looks down at you. He knew whatever songs he pulled together for an EP would be about you. His rush to write recently were from all the time spent being in your presence. It was intense, it had only been 5 months of dating, but somehow he thought you might understand. “I was thinking the cover art could be the subject of my songs.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head.

“Yeah,” he smiles. “How do you feel about self-portraits?”

Your face grows slack as it dawns on you. He had a whole EP in mind, about you.

“Well?” He twitches his hand on your waist, tugging you a little closer.

“Self-portraits sound a bit lonely,” you will your eyes not to tear up.

“But you won’t be,” Harry tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You have me. You won’t ever be lonely.”

“I know,” you feel the emotion catch in your throat as you gaze up into his photographic eyes. You can’t explain it but your body feels grounded—more grounded than it’s ever been. Here in his arms you felt together, like you were a book finally finding a shelf to lean on.

The two of you stand side by side and look at the people this collaborative masterpiece brought together. The room fills with the energy of the music. It was special.

"I love you," Harry reminds you.

"I love you too," you respond.

Your life hadn’t change all at once, not really. The biggest thing that changed was Harry. His presence, his attitude, his attention—it shifted. He wasn’t just a guy on the periphery, in proximity. He had you in his sights and he in yours.

You noticed small new things about him, and you wondered if everyone did. He was more confident and present, rooted to and with you. Both of you had bloomed, like caterpillars into butterflies. A pair of butterflies—you should tell him that.

Sometimes you thought you were just born lonely, it’s how it always was and has been. With Harry, you felt less lonely. You felt like things could really change for you.

You extend your hand to him and motion to the dance floor. It was a tradition now—no dance floor would go unmarked by the two of you.

He takes your hand and you lead him there. And with you in his arms he feels set free, like always.

Out of the cocoon and into the embrace of belonging, two butterflies dance in plain sight.

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #musician!harry #harry stylesxreader #harry styles one shot #one shot #soft spot for this fic #i loved writing how they fell separately

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clxssified-mirxcle · 5 months ago

Text

God, I'm so Lovesick ᯓ★ Satoru

Satoru Gojo isn’t normal. Not as a sorcerer, not as a coworker, not as a friend, and certainly not as a friend with benefits. After all, why does he keep insisting on doing all the things that a couple does when you two clearly aren’t? It's almost like he likes you or something!

Containing:

Friends with Benefits, Satoru and you being complete idiots, Obliviousness, Unrequited (not really) love, Implied suggestive content, Denial is a river in Egypt...and also in Reader's head apparently, Impulsive confession

Notes: Mimi tries to avoid use of phrase "Y/N" at all costs; Wrote this with Fem!Reader in mind but tried not to mention it very often. Any feedback is appreciated esp when it comes to writing x readers in general!

Nowadays, it feels like you're waking up in his bed more often than not. Silk sheets, sun rays streaming through the floor to ceiling windows of the penthouse, and that grin of his. His hand messed up your hair when he noticed that you were awake, tangled from the activities that have become more and more frequent ever since you two made that deal.

Six months ago..

"Aren't you supposed to be on a date or something?"

You looked up from your paperwork- your students had just come back from another mission with a grade 3 curse. It was your co-worker, white hair and blindfolded in black. You sighed, wondering how he always knew. It'd been going on like this for a while now- you'd find someone to talk to, and just as you were to go out on a date, they'd cancel last minute or ghost you- it made you wonder if it was a curse sometimes.

"Does that Six Eyes of yours count towards other people's love lives or something?" You asked, rolling your eyes and signing the last page before filing it away. You hadn't even bothered to dress up this time- you felt like something happening was inevitable. You and Gojo were somewhat close, you supposed. Not enough to be on a first name basis, but enough to be friendly. He always laughed and said you were being too picky about it, to just call it being friends. So that's what you did.

You called it being friends, but with you both being sorcerers, it wasn't the most normal of friendships. He'd barge into your office proclaiming that the two of you should hang out, which often ended up with him lying on the couch and talking while you did your paperwork…and his as well.

It was nice, though, listening to him talk. You couldn't tell half the time whether his stories were real or not, and he'd usually bring sweets with him. Whether or not you had to bribe him to get them depended on how nice he felt that day about sharing.

"Shame. They're losing out," He commented as he swung your office chair to face him, a hand on one of the armrests. "We should go out for drinks then. You can drink your sorrows away, and I-"

"Gojo, you don't drink. It messes with Infinity, doesn't it?" You said, cutting him off with an unimpressed look. He probably just wanted to laugh at you while you cried and take blackmail photos. The man had a folder full of Megumi photos; he probably had one filled with ones of you at awkward angles too. It was comical how dramatic his face was as it fell, looking like you'd killed a puppy in front of him.

"You're such a party killer…but that's not a no to going out, is it?" He grinned, switching back quickly and leaning back. "Let's get milkshakes, then. I know this one American-style diner in Harajuku that specialises in them."

"…Do I even have a choice?" You asked, crossing your arms in your chair. When it came to sweets, the man was nothing short of ravenous.

"Nope!" Gojo chimed, using the sleeve of your uniform to pull you up and tug you with him as he headed out the door. "And stop with that 'Gojo' stuff, will you? Call me Satoru, like a normal friend."

The ride to the diner was…relatively uneventful, though you could feel his eyes on you the entire time if you weren't looking. You both were looking through the menu before you got fed up with his staring- he'd been staring, almost studying you over his menu.

"Spit it out, Gojo." You sighed, still holding up the pretence of looking through the menu. You'd decided on what you wanted a while ago, anyways.

"What do you mean, spit it out? I'm not doing anything of that sort." He said, a faux-innocent expression on his face as he put down the menu, calling over a waiter to order.

You finally looked up from your menu as the waiter took them and gave your order, leaving with a strange look at Gojo's white hair and blindfold. Your eyes narrowed as you both waited for your drinks. "You keep staring at me weird. Spit it out already." It was probably just a prank that he wanted to pull on Nanami or something.

"You ever heard of an arrangement called being friends with benefits?" He asked casually, one arm resting over the top of his booth chair, already talking before you could answer. The milkshakes had come by, and while they looked delicious, they sat abandoned for now. "I'm interested in one. With you. You don't need to worry about feelings, anything like that. If you're not into it, then I understand, and we can-"

Your first instinct was to say no. That it was a stupid idea. Your second was that it was a prank. Your third…considered it. After all, Gojo wasn't bad looking. Far from it, to be exact. White hair that you knew was soft because of how he once spent an afternoon talking about his hair products that perfectly matched his eyes. Oh, those eyes. You'd only seen them twice, but they were unforgettable. They had to be the prettiest ones you'd ever seen, a cross between some sort of gemstone or crystal and blue glacier ice.

Fuck it, you're sorcerers. You'd have to be dreaming if you expected to live a long life...though Gojo probably would, being the 'Honoured One' and all.

You were so caught up thinking…or admiring, sipping on your milkshake, that you didn't notice that he was still talking when you answered.

"I'll do it."

"That's totally fine! I don't want to pressure you into anything and- wait what?" You'd never seen Gojo so stunned before. You couldn't see his eyes behind that blindfold of his, and he was ever so thankful for that because he just knew that the way his eyes widened was embarrassing.

You couldn't help smiling, leaning back against the back of your booth as you relaxed. "I said that I'd do it, Gojo."

"Then call me Satoru. It's only right if we're going to be in this sort of relationship," His mouth turned up into a grin that you knew meant he was about to say something weird. "After all, I can't have you calling me by my last name while we're-"

You silenced him before he could say anything else by shooting him a glare. "Gojo, I swear to God-"

"What're you thinking about?" His voice, slightly rough from sleep. He had one arm around you as he leaned down, pressing his lips to your neck before you playfully swatted him away. "C'mon, tell me!"

"Ack- Watch it Pretty Boy! I just woke up!" You giggled, burying your body further in the sheets. "Just thinking about when we first made the deal." According to the man, you'd become a lot more cheerful lately, and you were inclined to agree. Probably because you two started spending time together a lot often.

"Oh yeah? Well… I don't know about you, but I'm thinking about spending the day together. I have a vision and everything." Satoru grinned, sitting up and tugging on your arm like he had that day, when your relationship with him changed. You couldn't help but laugh as he all but pushed you into the bathroom, closing the door.

He'd changed since then, too. Or rather, his behaviour towards you did, at the very least. Sure, there were the times when he'd barge into your office, but you'd rarely see him outside of Jujutsu High. Since the previous November, you found yourself seeing him nearly every single day…and often every night, with the nature of your arrangement. It was almost like having a boyfriend. Almost. Because he wasn't your boyfriend. The way he'd take you out, for dinners and to places that could've passed for dates? The way that he'd make breakfast for you in the morning while you were asleep even though he preferred to just reheat food? How he'd grin just a bit wider whenever you called him Pretty Boy?

It made you almost double guess yourself sometimes.

Because sometimes, you'd wake up to him asleep, his arm holding you close to him like you'd leave the moment you woke up, and you'd almost believe that this whole arrangement was something more. Because he'd sense that you just weren't up to it occasionally, and instead say "Let's just sleep tonight, I'm tired and it's late. You should just stay over,"

And so you'd wish for something more.

It was an impossible dream, really. He was Gojo Satoru, for heaven's sake. The strongest, whose birth shook the world of Sorcerers and humans alike to its core when his eyes opened to reveal a power that hadn't been seen for at least a century. It'd take nothing short of a miracle for someone like him to become remotely interested in you.

You came out of the shower to a new dress laid out on the already made sheets. He was clearly planning something fancy; from the soft fabric to the floral blue pattern that sprawled across the white cloth. It was beautiful, and not the first outfit he'd gotten you, but as you put it on…you couldn't help but wish that he'd given it to you because he liked you. Not as a friend, not as a co-worker, not as whatever you were now, but as someone to love. God, he confused you. He had to know what he was doing, acting like this.

He wouldn't tell you where you two were going no matter how much you pestered him, meaning you had to rely on your memory. He took you from train station before you two finally got onto a bullet train and watched as the city turned into countryside. Getting off onto some station in the middle of nowhere, Satoru grinned as he ignored your questions and linked your arms together, pulling you close to him.

"Sorry, Sunshine, but I couldn't have you figuring out where we were going." He murmured, winking. You hadn't even realised that he'd neglected to put on the blindfold today.

"Pretty boy, what do you mean-" Your voice was cut off by your own yelp as you felt the familiar rush of queasiness as your surroundings morphed.

Of course something felt off. He hadn't fucking teleported them.

"Satoru, I swear to-" Your voice that was about to raise faltered, as you looked around. "…Where are we?" Your lips whispered, mind, body and soul utterly entranced by the sight that lay before you.

It was beautiful. You and Satoru were standing on the bank of a lake that was filled with floating red lotuses, the overhead sun making the water that you could see shimmer with flecks of pale yellow and gold.

"Somewhere in Northern Thailand. Nice, isn't it?" He answered from where he was standing, one arm around you- you hadn't even noticed when he'd done it- with a smile on his face.

The words 'Nice is an understatement' were caught in your throat as you turned to look at him, lips slightly parted open in what was normal to him, but to you was in absolute awe.

Satoru was always a good looking guy, handsome even. But oh, he was radiant. His white hair was striking on a normally, but in the sun on a day like this, you swore that it was glowing like a halo around him. Blue eyes that looked like they were made out of stained glass and long lashes that looked almost frosted in snow that would never melt. You both were in your mid 20's, but the one word that came to mind when looking at him was boyish, and it made a smile rise to your face as he took your hands in his.

"Dance with me, C'mon!" He said, eyes sparkling in a way that made you second guess everything again, eyes widening and cheeks heating up in a way you knew you had many times before…though you were pretty sure Satoru never noticed. You nodded, slightly stunned as he started leading you in something resembling a waltz, a giddy laugh escaping your lips.

"There's not even any music to dance to!" You spoke, laughter seeping through the pauses of your words as you took one hand off his shoulder to try and get hair out of your face from how he spun you around.

"I got it all in here, don't worry!" He smiled, guiding your free hand to just over his heart, and you prayed that he couldn't feel how warm your skin was or how your own heartbeat sped up.

"You're so stupid…" You mumbled, looking away as that smile got to you again.

Really, you had to get a hold of yourself. This was getting unbearable.

"Stupid? After I got you this?" He asked, a shit eating grin on his face as he turned you around, taking out a small jewelry box. "I'd be crushed if you thought that of me after this."

You felt the smooth chill of metal against the skin of your neck, instinctively looking down. He'd gotten a necklace. Aquamarine set in silver, the metal swirling around it in fibers so thin they looked almost liquid in the sun. It was beautiful.

And so, so wrong. Because a gift like this was something you got for someone special, and you…you weren't special to Satoru. Not in the way you wished it to be. Not enough to warrant what you were pretty sure was a custom made necklace that clearly cost more than double your monthly rent

So why did it create that familiar pit in your stomach? That blockage in your throat which didn't go away no matter how hard you swallowed?

You turned around and could barely get the words out, voice quiet as you whispered, "…Satoru, I can't-"

"You can't what?" He asked, a mix between a confused look and smile on his face. "I know I've never bought you jewelry before, but-"

"I can't do this anymore!" The words came out of your mouth faster than you realised. His mouth was still open from when he was speaking, and his eyes were wide in what one could only describe as utter shock.

Silence fell over you both. He was looking at you like you were someone special.

Oh. You'd messed up.

Oh.

You felt wetness on your cheeks. Strange, it wasn't raining.

You were crying, weren't you?

Looking at Satoru, he was about to cry as well.

"Satoru, I- I-" Your lips were wobbly as you slowly stepped away, barely holding yourself together. You were trying to look at anywhere else but him, really, hands fisted in your clothing with enough force to worry about the fabric ripping.

"I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore. I just-"

You were cut off by Satoru's voice so quiet yet so loud, faltering in a way at the end that just made your heart break. "Did I do something wrong? Tell me, please. I can- I can make things better. I'll make it better. Whatever it is, just tell me and-"

"No, you really can't." You whispered, forcing out a smile as you wiped your tears, the necklace, as delicate as it was, weighing like a thick chain of solid steel on your body. "Because you make everything better, you see. And that's the problem. I've not been a very good friend with benefits to you, you see."

"I've gone and fallen for you, and the worst part is that I don't even know when it started. I just look at you and feel dizzy with how my heart starts beating so fast."

That's strange. Why was he smiling with the purest form of relief on his face when he had been fighting a look of utter despair beforehand? He had to have lost it. Congratulations, you're to be credited as the person who made Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer, lose his mind faster than any curse. Fantastic.

"That's embarassing. I arrange all this, get you nice jewelry, and you still steal the first confession?" He said, half to himself as he ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe I should've listened and told you sooner."

You couldn't do anything else but stare, mouth agape with confusion as he stepped forward towards you, eyes filled with nothing short of adoration on his face.

"I had all planned out, really. I honestly had half the mind that you already knew." Satoru grinned, staring at you like you were the only one in the world. You were so close to him. Sure, you'd been closer, but everything felt different. Lighter. As if the necklace had lost all its weight since he had put it on you.

"You didn't know at all?" He asked, his fingers briefly resting on your hand before traveling up to rest on your cheek, bring your face closer to him.

"Not one bit." You breathed out, as you both leaned in, eyes closing and lips meeting.

It wasn't your first kiss, not by a long shot.

But you were pretty sure it was your favourite.

Taglist: [2/50, Comment to be added!]

@evilari111 @the2ndl

Credits ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Made everything myself on Canva! Got images from Pinterest!

© 2024 clxssified-mirxcle. All work belongs to @clxssified-mirxcle. Do NOT repost, translate or plagiarize in any way on ANY platforms. clxssified-mirxcle does NOT consent to having her work used to train AI in any form and does NOT support any form of AI 'art' whatsoever.

#satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #L in Love ✦ . 　⁺ ♡ . ୨୧

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dreamisols · 2 years ago

Text

｡⋆.luxiem + the things they do for love

—headcanons for how the boys show their love for you in their own little ways —fluff, gn! reader, i dumped this all in one night, update i finally proofread it!, the boys are their personas in the fic, i'm not including a certain someone out of respect :(, please remember that fiction is not equal to reality, always respect the livers! —mimi's ramble: i've always wanted to write for niji (T v T) i'll write for other fandoms too soon!

shu yamino

... entertains you with little light shows

if the people from shu's past life saw him now, he's sure that they would've had a whiplash

the sorcerer admits that he's handled his fair share of deadly curses, especially back in his prime. the delicate fingers brushing through your hair as you lay peacefully on his lap were the same fingers that conjured nightmarish realities towards those who truly deserved his wrath

does he still know all of these curses now? obviously.

can he still cast them as proficiently as before? absolutely.

shu simply chooses not to, so really, he wouldn't blame the people for whatever presumptions and thoughts they would've had about him. he's a man with a notable reputation—though good-natured, still fearful in his own right

his mind drifts along with daydreams as he continues combing through your hair, amused while imagining the terror on their faces upon seeing you so casually sprawled on his lap. no care whatsoever of the fact you're dating a sorcerer, because you trust that you can be vulnerable around your beloved shu

it was a nice change of pace. you're a nice change of pace.

your soft whine breaks shu from his daydream and he can't help but chuckle at the sound. it sounds irritated, but still playful and light. his eyes meet yours when you blink up and speak in a confused daze, "why'd you stop?"

in response, he sends you his signature cheeky grin, "you're gonna grow spoiled if i continue," he jokes, booping your nose "i also wanna show you something."

mumbling a few things under his breath, shu's hands gracefully draw shapes in the air. immediately, a humble array of beautiful sparkling lights and mythical looking creatures dance around the both of you. your mouth gapes in awe, looking at the fantastical sky

"it's a little thing i learned," the sorcerer perks up, adjusting from where he's seated so your back's leaning on his chest. a perfect view to gauge your response. "it's one of the few spells i know that doesn't hurt others. is it nice?"

you nod, still not looking away from the view, "nice? shu, this is breathtaking. i love it"

he leaves a small kiss on your temple, and you feel the smile on his lips as he murmurs a quiet thank you

shu hopes you never find out that he's spent a good chunk of his time learning that spell for you because he knew it would make you smile. and he definitely hopes you never find out that he's willing to do this over and over if it meant you two could always be like this. (that's a lie, he really wants you to know)

ike eveland

... immortalizes you in his work

to say your lover is currently inspired is an understatement

you were convinced that all nine muses had suddenly bestowed gift after gift to him, because you've never seen ike create works at such a speedy rate. he reminds you of a cat overwhelmed with the amount of treats and toys around him, because he keeps on alternating between one thing and the other

though you support your lover's endeavors and encourage him to work to his heart's content, you couldn't help the concern that washes over you when you register the amount of work he has on his plate

now you stand before his room with a mission in mind: make him take a break

maybe also grabbing an opportunity to take a little peek at the content of his works....

you march up with a tray of snacks and a drink in hand, "ike," you call out softly as you shut the door behind you, "i've got some snacks for you"

the novelist perks up at the sound of your voice and immediately turns to face you with a smile

"hello darling," he greets you softly, melodiously, while making quick steps towards you. ike kisses you as gently as he speaks to you, before he flashes an appreciative smile at the sight of your little gift "you really shouldn't have, thank you"

"you need to take a break too, you know" you're quick to comment as you trail after him while he carries the food to his desk. the novelist just hums and nods, and you get the lingering sense that what you said entered one ear and went out the other

you don't even hide the sigh upon noting all the papers scattered around his desk, "i'm serious, ike.." judging by the unfinished thoughts and abruptly cut paragraphs, it seemed like they were all unfinished drafts. "what's gotten you so worked up anyways?"

"you."

it's like he's stating an obvious fact. he replies so quickly and so casually, so unlike the deep thinker you're used to.

you stare at him shocked, while he reaches out to grab some of the said sheets of paper

"i was initially just going to write a cute romantic letter for you, but in the process of writing it, i realized i could somewhat incorporate everything that i feel for you into my actual working project. so i paused in writing the letter and went to writing my draft."

he grabs another few pages from a different pile, and dramatically continues, "but then the more i was thinking of how i felt for you, the more i thought about you in general. you and your pretty self, you'll be the death of me."

"then i realized that if i suddenly started writing about you in that draft, it wouldn't make sense, so i made a new draft just for that."

ike sighs, looking at you with a small pout, "now you can see how it became a cycle from there. really, if anything, you're..." he stops mid-thought, looking straight into your bewildered eyes. you're sure you look like a flustered mess, but you catch the way his eyes carefully map your entire face in adoration as his hand blindly reaches for his notepad

"hang on, i need to hold that thought. i'm getting an idea for yet another work."

luca kaneshiro

... has a whole folder in his notes app dedicated to you

the life of a mafia boss is no joke, you could practically imagine how hectic the day-to-day workload must be

despite your knowledge about luca's line of work, your sweet lover refuses to ever expose you to such ministries underground. he'd indulge you with scraps of information, sure; and the people under him all recognize (and adore) you, yes. but that's just as far as you're gonna get! he doesn't want to risk your safety, and you're beyond grateful for that

but imagination does wonders in filling up for whatever information you're lacking, and you pride yourself with how much your brain's able to conjure on what luca could possibly be doing (though you believe you need to tone down with the gruesome details)

one thing's for certain, there is a lot of things going on in the underworld. a lot of stressful things that leaves even your beloved sunshine of a boyfriend frustrated

his preferred method of blowing off steam? ranting to you

you really don't mind whenever he does since he'd always ask whether you're fine with him talking about it or not, and even with your consent, he really tries to keep everything to a minimum for you. still, that doesn't stop you from empathizing with the struggles and frustrations that come along with his line of work

"i'm really gonna make it up to you, okay?" luca mumbles into the crook of your shoulder, his arms securely wrapped around your frame. you just hummed and kissed his cheek, hugging him back

you regret not taking his words much more seriously

"mister luca kaneshiro, what on earth is this?"

you desperately wish the content of this clipboard was all a joke, or probably something you misread. but judging from the way he giggles like an excited child (which fits the charming grin on his face), you don't think there was a mistake at all

"i said i'm gonna make it up to you! remember?" he chirped before kissing all around your face "we're gonna start with this!"

you blink dumbly at him, "luca... this is a whole week's worth of high class things"

his grin falters and he looks at you with a quizzical stare "wait, does that mean i forgot to print out next week's cruise trip there?"

sometimes you want to take his brain and study it under a microscope.

for a good chunk of time, you scolded luca with how careless and hasty he is with spending, especially when it comes to spoiling you. he retaliates with whines of his own as he childishly pouts and points at the agenda he made for the both of you

"but you said you've always wanted to visit this pop-up cafe since the collab featured is one of your favorite shows! and since you wanna go, then i wanna go too! it even has your preferred drink on the menu, see?"

at some point you tuned out his nonstop rambling, especially when the contents on the clipboard caught your attention. you're quick to realize the entire week's plans are fit exactly to your tastes. all the places and activities are more or less suited to your preferences, and you couldn't help but inwardly applaud luca's attention to detail (he even placed the preferred time according to convenience and comfort)

you don't realize that luca's stopped his persuading rambles when he caught you studying the paper. immediately, a proud grin etches on his face at your astounded look and he puffs his chest in pride,

"i take note of aaalll the things you like and tell me about, y'know? what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn't know whether- i dunno- my lover would prefer their coffee iced or hot? or, trick question: if they even like coffee at all?"

upon seeing your poorly-concealed smile, he beams a smile of his own and kisses the corner of your lips, "just allow me to spoil you and show you my love, yeah?"

vox akuma

... makes a promise ring

"red really does suit you, darling"

vox chuckles when he sees you visibly shiver from the sheer intimacy of his actions. he can't blame you though, not when he's looking at you so affectionately as he gently plays with your hand

one by one, he leaves trails of kisses on your fingers. his lips trailing and mapping each and every area as if he was worshiping you. it feels light and dreamy, the way he's showering you in affection, you really can't help the way your heart swells

the demon is truly a man of his word, an ironic statement you've come to realize given how long you've been dating him. where in stories demons are usually depicted as deceitful beings, the one standing before you is nothing but sincere

he had always been someone who emphasizes the importance of promises, and with his background, you've come to understand why

it's in his principle that promises are meant to be taken seriously. they require mutual trust and a deeper sense of connection between the individuals after all. for instance, when you broke down and told vox all your troubles one time, he wrapped you in his wine colored coat and held you to his chest. you can hear the silent oath he made to always be there for you like you were there for him

but some promises between you two are more silly. like the time he accidentally ate the remaining dessert in the fridge despite you clearly stating over and over again how it was yours. the poor man had to endure your glares and pouts through fits of amused laughter. he finally gave in when he realized you'd playfully dodge his kisses, and made a lighthearted promise to not touch whatever food you said is yours and even compensate by cooking for you that night (the food was divine)

other times, it would sometimes come in the form of affection. simple and direct to the point, but as effective as ever. if he ever had to run late due to some errands or because he's meeting up with his friends, he'll always let you know prior with a gentle kiss on your forehead. a silent way of saying that the moment he's done, he's rushing home to nobody but you

vox really is a man of his word

the ring fitting snuggly around your finger is yet another form of his vows

the red jewel glimmers and winks at you, a lustrous ruby shade strikingly similar to the shade of red your beloved voice demon loves to parade around in.. and the fact that the both of you are wearing similar rings is surely bound to have heads turning to your direction.

you're snapped out of your trance when you feel vox playing with the cool metal wrapped snuggly on your finger. instead of a smug smirk or a devilish grin, his lips are formed into the smallest of smiles. a soft and content smile. he looks at the ring like it's the one thing that genuinely makes him happy, and you understand why

vox gave you a ring not because he wants to own you, but because he trusts you'll never break his greatest oath

"promise you'll take care of it?" he asks, guiding your hand to rest where his heart is—his greatest and most vulnerable vow

"i promise"

likes and reblogs are appreciated, but please don’t copy or repost my work! [edited and proofread: 110623]

#🎐rimi.works #💌.nijisanji #nijisanji #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji en #nijisanji en x reader #luxiem #luxiem x reader #shu yamino #shu yamino x reader #ike eveland #ike eveland x reader #luca kaneshiro #luca kaneshiro x reader #vox akuma #vox akuma x reader #no proofread and speedy work again :(

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chilumi-shipper · 11 months ago

Note

i got some ideas for you mimi!!!

heizou/cyno/wrio/neuvi handcuffed and punished lambgirl for committed a crime (like stealing his heart lol)

tighnari/itto/gorou/with lambgirl while hes in his rut,extremely rough heat cycle

baizhu testing an aphrodisiac pill he just made on reader

lambgirl helping dainsleif to calm his khaenriah cursed down by letting him pounding into her<33

lyney fucks you while performing magic trick in the mystery hidden box 😭(might be the 2nd time i sent it bc i couldnt remember if i have sent it to u or not;w;)

OMG!!! All great ideas! I especially like Wriothesley, Tighnari, Itto, and Dain! I feel like I'll go along the lines of your suggestions for their parts, with some variations of course.

Lyney though.... Hooooo, definitely interesting and risque, I don't even know how to begin to write that hahahahah

Thank you so much for your ideas! I really appreciate them! Although.... the next Little Lamb may take a while to make heheh

Ohh, and you did send a previous message before this one but that's okiii!

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joelalorian · 2 months ago

Text

Under False Pretenses - Chapter Fourteen

Stepdad!Dave York x f!reader | wc: 3578 | masterlist

Summary: A challenging mission, whirlwind marriage, and an unexpected yet captivating stepdaughter push Dave York to the brink as secrets, feelings, and loyalties collide.

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ mdni. Stepdad trope. Unspecified age gap. Soft, sexy, and intense Dave. Nicknames and terms of endearment. Cursing. Life begins again. Moving. Lots of love. Unprotected p in v. Dave isn't your (fake) stepdad anymore.

A/N: I'm back! My writing mojo returned after my girls trip, and I'm tickled to finally share the next part of this story. Only one more chapter and an epilogue to go, my friends. I'm sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoy!

Series Masterlist

Chapter Fourteen

When the girls returned two days later, the house finally felt like a real home again, warm and loving, and entirely free of the negative energy your mom had always caused to permeate the walls. The scent of fresh-baked cookies filled the air, courtesy of your sweet tooth, and the soft hum of conversation made the space feel whole, something you hadn’t experienced before no matter how hard you tried.

Alice and Molly burst through the front door with the immense excitement of children who heartily missed their dad, dropping their backpacks by the entryway before launching themselves at Dave with squeals of “Daddy!”

Dave grunted as they collided with his torso, his injured arm protesting at the sudden weight. But he didn’t care. Nothing would stop him from giving his girls the biggest hug ever, the pain was worth it. He wrapped them in a firm hug, pressing kisses to each of their heads.

“You were good for Mimi and Poppy?” he murmured against Alice’s soft hair, breathing in the scent of her that he had loved since she was born.

The young girl nodded enthusiastically. “We missed you, though.”

Molly, still clinging to his shirt, tilted her head up. “What happened to your arm? And Ranger’s tummy?” She looked on the verge of tears at seeing bandages on her dad and the beloved dog.

“A bad guy at work hurt us, but we’re almost all better now,” he explained, glancing at the still-healing wound on his bicep. Standing, he brushed the hair out of their faces and nodded to his former in-laws as they stood patiently in the doorway. “Let me say thank you to Mimi and Poppy.”

The girls turned to you then, greeting you with the same excitement as they had their dad. Your heart felt fit to burst with how full of love it was at the sight of them. They delighted you with tales of their adventures with their devoted grandparents, and you gasped and laughed in all the right places, soaking up every ounce of their enthusiasm. Everything felt so… right, like this was exactly where you were meant to be. A place you never knew you always longed for until you met Dave and his sweet daughters.

As you all settled in, the girls didn’t ask about Lisa. Not at first, even though it was clear they noticed her absence. When they did, it landed like a stone in Dave’s chest despite his lack of love for the woman. They had already lost so much in their young lives, he hated that they lost yet another person, even if they were not particularly fond of Lisa. He knew all too well how harsh a place the world was and he would go to great lengths to shield his precious girls from any further loss.

“Daddy?” Alice questioned as he tucked his little girl into bed, her arms wrapped tightly around him like a spider monkey. All day, both girls clung to him, silently fearful that he’d disappear. It tore at his heart. Even now, they refused to sleep in their separate rooms, wanting to be tucked in together in Alice’s room.

“Yeah, sweetie?”

She hesitated, exchanging a look with her sister before turning back to him. “Where’s Lisa?”

Dave took a slow breath, running his fingers through Alice’s dark hair. “Lisa’s not coming back,” he said, his voice a gentle rumble. “In fact, there’s something you should both know.”

Both girls blinked up at him owlishly, waiting.

He exhaled a long breath, his voice steady but soft as he explained. “My marriage to Lisa wasn’t real. It was pretend -- for work.”

Molly chimed in then, her little brows scrunched up. “Like a spy?”

Dave smirked, knowing his sweet girl was thinking of that animated movie they liked to watch, the one where the parents were spies. He could never remember the title. “Yeah. Kinda like that.”

He expected more questions about why, but they didn’t come.

You stood in the doorway watching the sweet interaction when Alice’s big brown eyes met yours. “Does that mean you can be our mommy for real now?”

Your breath hitched as Molly gasped, absolutely delighted by the idea. “Yeah! You can be our new mommy finally!”

Dave’s chest tightened, his lips parting slightly as he gazed at you adoringly – his eyes said everything in that moment. Turning back to the girls, his voice thick as he asked, “Would you like that?”

Both girls exploded excitedly, bouncing on the bed and recounting the story from the aquarium all those months ago when they both decided they’d rather have you as a stepmom over Lisa.

“You have to ask her, Dad,” Alice whispered, offering sage advice well beyond her years.

“I will, sweetheart,” Dave promised, pleased that his girls loved you as much as he did. “Soon.”

“No, Daddy! Can you ask her now?” Molly squealed, not satisfied with the undefined timeline. “Like, right now?”

Alice clapped her hands. The bedtime routine wasn’t going quite the way he expected. The girls were far too distracted over the idea of their dad asking you to marry him.

“We can have a wedding in the backyard tomorrow!”

Dave chuckled, shaking his head as he kissed the top of each girl’s head. “Not yet, bug.”

They both pouted and you had to stifle a chuckle at how stinking cute they were.

“But why?” Alice whined, her brow pulling together into a charming little frown.

Dave met your gaze, his burnt umber eyes shining with mirth and warmth. In a soft voice, he explained as best he could. “Because we need time, peanut. I need to find a new job. We need a new house. Ranger and I are still healing. And she… Our firecracker needs to decide if that’s what she wants, too. It’s not just my choice.”

You swallowed hard as both girls turned to you with wide puppy dog eyes. Nodding, you smiled. “Good thing it’s what I want, too.”

Their faces split into huge smiles, and Molly whispered loudly, “You should still ask her now, Daddy.”

Dave laughed, hugging the little girl close to his side. “Soon, bug. I promise.”

He made a mental note to include the girls when he shopped for a ring.

A week later, Dave submitted his resignation to the agency. He planned to transfer his cases and contacts to others on his team over the next three weeks. In return, the agency granted him sixty days to vacate the house, allowing the pair of you a little time to figure out your next steps.

“Where would you want to go?” you asked one evening that week as you sat on the couch watching the girls gently petting Ranger. His wound was healing nicely, and he started getting some energy back, but you ensured the girls knew to still be careful with him.

“Anywhere but here,” Dave replied, his broad hand squeezing your thigh with a small flex of his fingers. “I want a fresh start with you. Somewhere with no reminders, nothing to haunt us or the girls.”

“I’d like that, too,” you admitted. A fresh start sounded fantastic.

Visions of places you’d dreamed of living flooded your mind – the options were vaster with the money Dave amassed over the years, far more than you had to your name. The mountains of Colorado. The Carolina beaches. Montana. Florida Keys. Hell, you could even go to Europe. But the image that burned strongest in your mind’s eye when you allowed yourself to dream of a happy life with the Yorks was somewhere in the Outer Banks.

You could already see it. A deceptively large, yet quaint cottage on the beach, curtains fluttering as the ocean breeze filtered through the open windows. Ranger trotting along the water line, barking happily as the girls chased him, water kicking up from their bare feet. You and Dave perched on a porch swing, rocking back and forth as you listened to the waves cross ashore.

Happiness.

Peaceful, glorious happiness.

That’s what you felt as you pictured the scene.

“What do you think of North Carolina?” you finally asked, eager to share the dream.

“The beaches or mountains?” Dave replied as he pulled you close, kissing your temple. “Who am I kidding, I’d be fine with either, but what were you thinking?”

“The beach – specifically, the Outer Banks.” You described the image in excruciating detail, eliciting a grin from Dave at your excitement.

“Sounds like paradise. Let’s start looking for houses.” He stood, leaving the room to return a few minutes later with an iPad in his large hand.

“You want to start house hunting right this second?” Surprise laced your voice. You didn’t expect him to be quite so eager.

“There’s no better time. We need to be out of here real soon, so let’s get cracking.”

You must have virtually viewed a hundred houses over the next few weeks, scouring online listings. There were many beautiful homes, most of which were just too much money. Nothing stood out. Part of you thought you were being foolish, hoping to find the perfect house. But Dave encouraged you to follow your gut.

“You’ll know it when you see it, kitten. And when you do, we’ll fly down and see it in person to make sure it’s exactly what you want,” he said one evening when you grew frustrated with all the searching.

“It’s not just about what I want, Dave,” you insisted. “You need to love the house as well.”

“I will, I promise. Making you happy makes me happy. My dream is to find your dream home where we will all be happy together, knowing we made your dream come true.”

Dammit. How was Dave so perfect? No one had ever been so good to you. Tears threatened to gather and spill over at the love you held in your heart and soul for this man.

“Come on, let’s take a break from the hunting,” he said when words failed you. “How’s therapy going?”

Cuddling into Dave’s side, you smiled. “It’s going really well. My therapist is great, she innately knows when to let me process at my own speed and when to push. It’s nice to just get some stuff off my chest and have those feelings be validated, you know?”

“I do,” Dave nodded. “You know you can talk to me about anything, but there’s something about therapy that makes it easier to open up, I think.”

“Exactly. Does that mean you’re ready to try it?”

“Soon, honey. Let’s get our living situation and new jobs figured out, then I promise to start therapy.”

“Uh-huh,” you replied in a teasing tone, pretending to be doubtful. “We'd better get back to house hunting then.”

It took a few weeks, but you finally found it—the perfect cottage by the sea. Dave was right. You knew the moment you saw the picture. Nestled in the dunes on a triple lot, just far enough from town to be quiet yet close enough for convenience, the house was perfect. White shutters. A wraparound porch. A fireplace for the winter. A pool for summer.

“That’s the one!” you declared excitedly. Dave gazed at you with a sparkle in his chocolate eyes. The next thing you knew, Dave booked tickets and the four of you were on a flight to North Carolina, touching down on the tarmac at Norfolk International Airport and embarking on the two-hour road trip to the Outer Banks.

Dave pulled the oversized SUV to a stop in the paver driveway, having followed the realtor over from their office. “You ready?” he asked, squeezing your hand gently. When you nodded, he jumped out of the vehicle and rushed over to open your door for you. Dave York was ever the gentleman.

“Is this it?” Alice asked as you helped her jump down from the back seat.

“It is,” you replied. “What do you think?”

“I can hear the waves crashing!” Molly cut in before her sister could respond. The young girl took off toward the house, eager to see the beach.

“Well, I think we have Molly’s approval,” Dave said with a wry smile. His large hand grasped yours, tangling your fingers together as you followed more sedately behind Alice.

“It’s exactly like the pictures,” you murmured, eyes wide with wonder as your gaze raked over every detail of the house. It was spectacular. “Actually, I take that back. It’s even better than the pictures.”

The realtor greeted you all at the door. “Ready for the grand tour?”

They started in the entryway, but you and the girls soon wandered off to explore on your own, lingering over your favorite features like the built-in bookshelves surrounding the white brick fireplace, the large windows offering a picturesque view, and the clawfoot tub in the master bath.

You could see your life in this house already – the girls growing up and learning to surf, you and Dave growing old together. The life you yearned for was right there within your grasp.

Dave took one look at you when he and the realtor caught up with you in the backyard and made an offer. Your dreams were about to come true.

The following weeks were a whirlwind after the sellers agreed to Dave’s offer. While Dave wrapped things up at work and the girls were in school, you spent much of your time sorting belongings into two categories – things to pack and things to toss (or sell). Ranger provided diligent oversight as you worked, rarely leaving your side.

Moving day arrived sooner than you were prepared for, and there was a mad scramble to have things ready for the movers to load onto the truck. Once the moving truck was on its way, you and Dave loaded Dave’s SUV and your mom’s car for the road trip to your new home. Everything that remained, including your car and quite a bit of furniture, had been sold or donated.

It wasn’t until you arrived, exhausted yet relieved, at your new home that you realized you and Dave hadn’t been intimate since everything went down with McCall.

How was that possible?

Before all the shit hit the fan, you two were insatiable. There was hardly a day when one of you didn’t jump the other’s bones. It was mind-boggling that it had now been nearly two months since you did anything more than dry hump on the couch.

You needed to, wanted to fix that.

But first, you needed to sort out the house so all four of you had somewhere to sleep tonight. Between the movers, you, and Dave, the majority of your belongings were properly placed or stowed away. A handful of boxes remained by that evening, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

In the fading sunlight, warmth permeated the cottage.

The walls that were once bare and unfamiliar were now adorned with framed drawings from Alice and Molly, a few scattered photos, and books stacked messily on shelves as they awaited proper arrangement. The breeze carried the comforting scent of salty air with the windows and doors open.

Laughter echoed through the halls – the kind that came from deep in the belly as the girls raced up and down the stairs, shrieking when Ranger chased after them, tail wagging as he yipped in excitement. He was fully healed now, as was Dave.

As exhausted as you all were, you were still invigorated.

It felt like life had finally settled. The storm had passed. You all made it through, and life was beginning anew.

Dave wandered up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your middle as he leaned down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Welcome home, kitten,” he murmured, his breath tickling over your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You spun in his arms, your hands coming up to grasp his face as you smiled warmly at him. His smile broadened, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Are you happy?”

“Incandescently,” you replied cheekily. “This is more than I ever dreamed of. Thank you, Dave.”

Dark brown eyes burned with a heady mixture of desire, happiness, and love as he gazed at you. His head dropped, his lips seeking yours. The kiss was soft, at first, building in intensity as his tongue played along the seam of your lips, seeking to dance with yours. When you finally stepped back, breathless and riled up, you sighed.

“It’s been too long,” you whined breathily. “I need you. Right now.”

“I’m yours. Take what you want, kitten.”

“The girls are still up,” you replied, your forehead thudding against his chest.

“I’ll send them to bed right this damn minute. You better be waiting for me in our bed, naked and ready by the time I’m back.” Dave kissed you once more before rushing off with a holler to the girls that it was time for bed.

Ten minutes and one bedtime story later, Dave entered the bedroom to find you bare-skinned and spread out like a five-course meal waiting for him. Legs spread; your fingers danced across your belly before slipping lower. You watched Dave’s eyes darken, pupils growing wide with uncontrollable need as he observed you dipping your fingertips between your folds.

You watched him watching you as you teased yourself. Moving with purpose, Dave stripped off his clothes. His hard cock bobbed when he stepped forward, but he veered toward the ensuite bathroom instead of joining you on the bed.

“Hey!” you called out, a little bewildered. “Where are you going?”

Wordlessly, Dave slipped back into the room a moment later, body angled so you couldn’t see him in all his naked glory. A low buzzing hum filled the silence suddenly.

“I have a surprise for you,” Dave said in a deep, low voice that trickled down your spine like warm syrup. “Let’s see how this makes my little firecracker explode.”

Your eyes widened at the sight of the vibrating cock ring sitting snuggly at the base of his beautiful dick.

“Ohhh,” you moaned, mouth already watering at just the thought of the vibrations against your sensitive clit. “You remembered.”

“Of course,” Dave replied, moving to lie beside you on the bed, “I remember everything.” His dark eyes swirled with a heady mix of desire and devotion as you moved to straddle him. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

Hands grasping your hips, he guided you down until his cock was nestled deep inside you, the cock ring vibrator angled just right to stimulate you. You were so worked up and needy, no thought was spared for easing him in.

“Holy fuck, that feels good,” you gasped, your body moving of its own accord until you were grinding down onto Dave.

“That’s it, kitten. Grind on me. Can you feel me vibrating inside you?” You certainly could, the sensation driving you wild.

Dave’s hips jerked upwards as a shock of pleasure shot through him, the movement jolting you into an unexpectedly quick orgasm.

“Oh, my fucking god, Dave!” you practically screamed as you came, hard, your body trembling wildly, and Dave pressed a hand against your mouth to keep you from waking the girls. A low keen escaped when he slipped a few fingers past your lips, and you sucked at them greedily.

“That good, huh?” He smirked, rocking you against him with his free hand to prolong your pleasure. You already soaked him, your arousal dripping down his balls to leave a growing wet spot on the bed.

When the orgasm finally subsided, you slumped against Dave’s chest, mind blown at just how fucking good that was.

“I hope you don’t think I’m done with you already,” he teased. “That was just Act One, and this is at least a three-act play, kitten.”

You could do nothing but smile blissfully at him as he flipped you over onto your back with efficient skill, his cock somehow staying inside you. You loved it when he was on top.

“How’s that feel?” Dave asked as he worked his hips, making sure to grind against you with each downward thrust, the vibrator alighting your clit in a roaring fire of overwhelming pleasure.

“So good,” you mumbled. “I can feel the vibrations everywhere.” You pressed a hand to your lower belly, feeling the bulge of his cock as he pounded into you.

It didn’t take long for another orgasm to build, the vibrator heightening the sensations. Within minutes, you were a babbling, incoherent mess of pleasure.

“That’s it, baby. Let me have another one. And another one after that.”

You could do little more than moan and wrap your legs around Dave’s hips as he fucked you so good. The orgasm seemed to go on forever, one rolling into the next until you were both a mess of your juices. Finally, the tight clench of your pussy mixed with the cock ring became too much for Dave and he came so hard his vision turned white behind his eyelids, and he let out an inhuman grunt.

Depleted of energy and the ability to support his body weight, Dave slumped against you, his weight a welcome comfort after being thoroughly worked over. You both laid there boneless and gasping for several minutes before Dave rolled off you, struggling to turn off the vibrator and rip the cock ring from his softening, overstimulated dick.

“That was better than I could have ever imagined,” you said through a jaw-breaking yawn. “I still want to go to an adult store with you, though.”

Dave flashed you an exhausted smile. “I aim to please, kitten. And I promise we’ll go soon. I ordered this one online, knowing I wanted to christen our first home together in a truly special way.”

“How are you so perfect?” you praised him sleepily.

“I’m not, really. I’m just perfect for you,” Dave replied, getting up from the bed with a groan. “You bring out the best in me.”

He disappeared into the bathroom again, and you heard the faucet run. Minutes later, Dave returned with a warm cloth and gently cleaned you up. On the verge of slumber, you merely mumbled your thanks, not even caring that you laid right in the middle of the biggest wet spot the two of you ever made.

When Dave climbed back into bed, he tugged you over to his side and pulled the covers over your still-naked bodies. “I’ll change the sheets in the morning. Sleep well, my love.”

tbc

Chapter Fifteen

tag list: @imdrinkingpedro @lillaydee @ppascalrain @yorksgirl @missladym1981 @baronessvonglitter @slimybeth69 @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @inept-the-magnificent @wannab-urs @thundermartini @peelieblue @harriedandharassed @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @sunnytuliptime @vie-is-punk @lovely-vamp-princess

#stepdad!dave york x f!reader #dave york equalizer 2 #soft yet intense dave #dave york fluff #dave york angst #pedrostories #stepdad!dave #vengeful Dave #murder daddy dave york #dave york smut

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hyperiondickrider · 2 months ago

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Arena Angel

(Chapter 2)

Hisoka x reader; Chrollo x reader; Illumi x reader (might start off relatively slowburn as I build the story)

Y/N used to work as an unofficial healer at the Heaven’s Arena, but was recently demoted and can no longer perform her side gig. Chaos ensues when her fav lil menace returns from an absence. (Adultrio x reader)

“Hey, Y/N, you ok to go on break?”

“If I ever say no to that question, I want you to take the glock out from under my desk and shoot me.”

You practically scrambled away from your desk, barely remembering to flip the sign on your kiosk to closed before leaving.

Work wasn’t hard, but it was dull - emotionally taxing, if you will. Dealing with dumb customers and dumber coworkers will drain a girl, and quick. At least before your incident, you had your side gig to tend to, getting your mind off the boring shit and raking in a lil extra cash at the same time. Was it against arena policy? No..? Maybe? You don’t know, but as long as no one snitched, everyone was winning.

After all, the key to success is knowing your audience, and in this case, you were perfectly suited.

A nen healer surrounded by competitive fighters. Fork found in kitchen, right?

Anyways, the downside is, your side gig was physically taxing, rather than emotionally. Explaining the mechanics of it to non nen users was far too irritating, and so it could only be exacted when on duty on floors 200+.

Well, besides. With such annoying drawbacks, you charged quite the price for a job, and not many others could afford it.

————————————————————————

You grumbled to yourself, rubbing your eyes as you poured yourself a coffee from a pit that had already been cold a couple of hours.

At this rate, you’d never get back to the top. Mimi could hold a grudge, and she doesn’t owe you any favours currently. Your best bet would be covering someone else’s shift - yes, you would prove yourself trustworthy again.

You just needed a chance.

“Fuck!” A quiet curse came from outside the break room, startling you from your scheming.

“Everything ok, Mimi?”

You could hear the phone ringing - no one picked up. Mimi mumbled out a soft ‘fuck off’ upon realising no one was answering, before the swift click of her flip phone snapping shut rang through the air.

“Y/N. You’re not scheduled for tonight, are you? But you’re free..?”

You felt giddy. Had you really manifested this into existence? You wiped your clammy palms on your skirt before answering her.

“Uh yeah, I’m not on schedule. B-but I’m free though..” you cleared your throat, hoping your stutter was unnoticeable.

“Good. I need you to cover for Lola. She called out sick for the fourth time this week.”

Well, we all know Lola didn’t actually call out - she just didn’t show up, probably hanging out with her boyfriend instead.

Hey, the girl’s got priorities, you can respect that.

BUT, Lola always got flood 200. Fuckjng suck up. At least it worked out in your favour this time.

“Sounds good. 8pm-6am shift, right?” You spoke as you walked away, flipping open your phone.

Time to let everyone know we’re back in business.

A/N: short chapter which is just exposition really, but I’m trying to get used to writing again. More coming I promise

TAGLIST: @screaming-crying-screamingagain

@holoimtrans17 @keepmeinurpocket

@frog-fans-unite

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letstalkaboutfandomsbaby · 2 years ago

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I just found your account, and I love your writing especially the ones with Geto!! (I love that man!!)I do apologize for asking but do think you would ever write more of chubby reader Geto? Especially the one where chubby darling is trying to make herself useful in his temple? I love that one especially!

I actually wanted to write a fic for that prompt for a LONG time but i never found the strength to finish it, so allow me to expand upon chubby reader who works in Geto's temple 💕

CW: chubby fem reader, non-sorcerer reader, Geto refers to reader as a "monkey" once, allusion to suicide, bullying, the twins are around 10-12 yrs old, smut (mostly implied)

───────────────

Let's start by saying that you're nothing special. You are not the type of girl that Geto would see himself with. It would take a miracle for him to fall for someone like you.

And yet, miracles happen every day, don't they?

Your family has acquired some debt. They have been paying Geto to exorcise curses for them, and he has always delivered, but they have run low on funds and there's still a nasty curse to take care of. They beg and plead with him to remove it, but he refuses to lift a finger until they bring him a hefty donation again.

That's where you come in.

You can't see or sense curses, but you've felt their effects, dealing with the repurcussions of your family's awful attitude. This latest curse is the worst of them all, feeding off of every negative thing your family spews, weighing you down with their toxic energy. You'd do anything to get rid of it, to finally know peace again.

So you offer a trade. You promise to provide your services to the sorceror if he exorcises this curse for you and your family.

Geto ponders this deal for a while. He believes that monkeys are only good for providing curses or money, so he doesn't see the appeal of you at first. But then he remembers that he recently disposed of his maid because the twins disliked her, so he decides to make the deal. He will dispose of the curse if you act as his maid, cooking, cleaning, the works.

You have no other choice, so you accept.

The work itself isn't hard. Dusting, sweeping, mopping, polishing. You cook breakfast and dinner, lunch if requested. You're starting to get callouses from the work, but that's the least of your worries.

The twins hate you. You don't expect them to like a non-sorcerer like you, but they're cruel without reason. They tip over your mop bucket and run off laughing, they leave worms in your bed, they once took scissors to your hair and cut a piece off. They are awful, but you know you can't fight back. You have to take the high road, be the bigger person, endure their hatred so you can get by. If you step out of line, Geto will kill you without hesitation, you know this for a fact. So, you don't fight back. You show no reaction. You pray they get bored of you before you jump off the roof of the temple. At least then you would find peace.

The girls get into a fight one day. Nanako ripped Mimiko's doll as payback and now the both of them are sobbing and yelling at each other. You think it's karma for how they've treated you.

And yet, you take the high road once more.

You separate the girls first, sending Mimi to the kitchen and Nana to the living room. You quietly sew and mend Mimiko's doll, eyes watching you as you did so. Once the doll was fixed, you coaxed Nanako to take the doll to her sister and apologize. Surprisingly, she did so, and the girls hugged. They went on their merry way, not hurling insults at you for once. You go back to your chores.

The girls ask, no, demand lunch a few days later. You comply, making onigiri and cutting fruit into fun shapes, adding a cookie for dessert. The girls coo about the hearts and stars on their plates before digging in. They take their plates to the sink when they're finished and linger for a moment, staring at you. You ask what's wrong, but they scamper off before you can get an answer. You wash the dishes in silence.

Nanako falls and scrapes her knee on a rock. The other workers are shocked still, terrified of what Geto will do now that one of his precious girls has been injured, but you don't fret. You take action, bringing the young girl inside, grabbing a first aid kit, tending to her small wound. You clean it, apply a bandage. She requests a kiss to make it better, so you comply, pressing your lips gently against the bandage. She seems satisfied, getting up and running off with her sister again, throwing back a "thank you" as she does. You're surprised at her gratitude, but you think little of it.

You become a beacon of sorts. The other workers saw how well you handled Nanako's wound, and now they come to you whenever they don't know how to handle the twins. The girls are fighting? You are retrieved to break it up. They want lunch? You're always the one who makes it. They're getting ready for bed? You are now the one who ensures they brush their teeth, tucking them into bed before Geto bids them goodnight. You don't think much of your new role, chalking it up to just being a new part of your job that you have to take care of.

It's not until they call you "Mom" that you look at your role differently.

Mimiko calls you "Mom" first, after she finishes her lunch and puts her plate in the sink.

"Mom, I want a cookie."

You pause, frozen, processing what she said.

"Um... what do you say when you want something?" The young girl rolls her eyes.

"May I please have a cookie?" You smile softly at her compliance.

"Yes, you may." You take down the cookie jar, pulling out two and handing them to Mimiko. "Take one to your sister."

"Okay!" And she's off, leaving you to think about your new label.

Later that night, when you're tucking the girls into bed...

"Goodnight, Mom," Mimiko mumbles from below her sheets. You pause at the door, hand on the handle.

"Night, Mom," Nanako speaks up, hiding her face with her comforter. You swallow, inhaling deep.

"Goodnight, girls. Sleep tight."

You hesitantly close the door, hearing it click softly. You sigh, turning around, running into someone.

It was Geto. He stared down at you silently, eyes boring into you. You quickly bowed, moving out of his way, gaze glued to the floor. He watches you for a moment before grabbing the door handle, pushing the door open. You hear the girls chirp with delight as the door closes. Once it clicks shut, you bolt out of there, not looking back.

You become a maternal figure for the girls, someone they look up to, someone they rely on. You take care of them daily, tending to their every whim, scolding them gently when needed. The girls begin to follow you, insisting that you play with them, that you give them time and attention. Other people start taking on your chores so that you can entertain the twins and keep the peace.

At the same time, Geto starts to notice you more.

He notices how the girls light up when they talk about you, how they ask for you at night to read another chapter in their book, how they cling to you whenever they have a free moment. He thinks it's silly for them to enjoy the presence of a non-sorcerer such as yourself. Of all the people to become attached to, why you? There were plenty of socerer women that wandered these halls, so why did they choose you? What was so special about you?

It bothers him for a bit, but ultimately he's just happy that his girls are happy. He even began to appreciate your presence, your maternal instincts allowing you to care for the twins better than anyone else could. He came to value having you around to give his girls the love and attention they lacked when they were so young.

But there were other perks to having you around. Geto found himself delighted whenever you smiled, silently hoping you could direct that smile towards him. He began speaking with you casually, enjoying the sound of your voice more and more with each conversation. And you were attractive, to say the least, bright and lovely. He savoured being able to see a pretty thing like you so often, your round cheeks, your glittering eyes, your delicate hands, your bountiful hips. His mind began to wander to your body during his little meetings, wondering how soft you were under that cheap, coarse uniform. He imagined how your thighs would squish as you sat or kneeled before him, gazing up at him, willing to take whatever he would give you.

That's when he started fantasizing about you in earnest. He started thinking about you late at night, about your plump frame and how it would feel under his fingers. He thought about your thighs warming the sides of his face, your ass bouncing as he thrust into your, your mouth forming a perfect 'O' as you came over and over again. He thought of all of this as his hand trailed down his body, wrapping around his cock and tugging it, groaning at the sensation. You'd be so much better than his hand, soft and warm and wet. He wanted to feel you, to brace you against him, make you all his. God, what he'd give for just a taste of you.

He does this for a while. He doesn't know how much longer he can go. Maybe he'll make you his personal maid, have you draw him a bath, make you massage his scalp as he soaks. Maybe he'll be forward and tell you exactly what he wants. Maybe he'll force you into his bed; people will do anything if they're threatened properly. Maybe he'll woo you with gifts, perhaps a few dresses, maybe even a kimono, something traditional to match him. He's not sure, there's so many options, he can't decide.

The girls want to go to an aquarium. They want you to come along.

Maybe he could court you properly.

───────────────

#ask #smut #geto suguru #chubby reader #fem reader #chubby fem reader #☀️ asks #geto suguru x reader #geto maid au

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lvmimis · 2 years ago

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nanami takes a deep breath before turning the doorknob to his, well your, apartment and delivers a well rehearsed 'i'm home!' to complete and utter silence.

surprised but also not, he scans the room, fingers loosening his necktie as he walks, but as he approaches your room at the end of the hallway, he can hear the tap-tap-tap of furiously typing keys, along with the backlight of too many screens, and he's aware that you're actually still there.

perhaps you didn't hear him, and he doesn't feel like repeating the joke.

since your door isn't locked, he decides to invite himself in, hoping that you're not sitting in your desk chair in your underwear like you were four weeks ago, barely batting an eyelash as you turned as though you were fully clothed forcing him to reflexively cover his eyes.

this time as you hear him, you don't turn but you raise one hand, still typing with the other to wave at him.

"deadline?" he asks.

you shake your head.

right at the time you swivel in the chair, he's put two and two together. your lips have been sealed again sometime between the last time he saw you and now, and you're signing to him, letting out a noiseless sigh, a cloud of cursed energy floating over the lower half of your face.

"who did you tell about themselves?" he sighs back.

you sign a noncommital, I slipped, and he sighs, making his way towards your bed and sitting down on the edge. you want to say something about changing from outside clothes before contaminating your bedding but you'll allow it. just for today.

"okay well now you're forced to listen to me," nanami offers. you glance at the mismatched long socks on his feet and point, shaking your head.

"leave me alone," he says, flatly.

stop dressing like a clown and i won't comment on the circus, you sign.

"still amazes me how you manage to be more annoying when you're forced to be silent," he quips, but he chuckles. you smile.

"how long is the time limit this time?" he asks, rising to retire for the evening.

a couple hours, you sign.

"gojo should have been born with this technique instead," he mutters. "sick of hearing that he's in love." you laugh.

did he tell you about her toes again? i heard you telling him not to call you in the middle of the night last time.

nanami rubs his temples.

"setting my phone to do not disturb for the rest of the evening."

he rises finally with an exaggerated groan that you'd make fun of more if you could, but he's turned his attention and won't be watching you sign anymore. you turn back to your work but realize you want to talk more before he leaves. as you look back at him, he's reaching for the light, flickering it back on and you hiss dramatically yet soundlessly.

"you're going to damage your eyes," he replies without consequence.

there's nothing important for me to see. and i'm saving us on the light bill.

"you don't pay the light bill," he reminds you. it's true. you pay water and other utilities, but he's claimed light and a little bit more of the rent.

you purse your lips but decide not to argue more. letting yourself breathe out through your nose, you return to your code. it seems like a silly day job for someone who technically a sorcerer, but nanami is a literal salaryman. you're in the same boat.

your phone buzzes, and it's a message from your roommate again, despite the fact that he's long gone.

can i eat the leftovers?

they're not leftovers. i purposefully cooked for two, weirdo.

you see a chat bubble rise then fall, then a like to your message that brings a smile to your face.

perhaps no longer living alone isn't so bad.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #daydreams: jjk #thoughts: nanami #mimi's notes #mimi writes: cursed!reader

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the-writing-writer · 1 year ago

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Daddy’s Girl

Pairing: Asano Family x Young!Reader

Genre: Angst, SFW

Summary: It’s not easy living in your older brother’s shadow. When he’s your fathers protégé and you’re just a spare…

Warnings: Child neglect, mentions of abuse, cursing, toxic behavior

Notes: The names “Babes”, “Angel”, “Darling” and other endearments are used in a platonic manner.

Your brother never treated you like your father did. He actually acknowledged you as a person and as a part of the family.

Gakushu would take care of you once your father decided you were old enough for him to stop caring, saying you were old enough to be able to handle yourself.

You were only 6 years old.

Maybe it was because Gakushu was already 15 that he took care of you. He certainly had more time in his schedule than your father. For you at least.

Even now, sitting in your fathers office on the floor in the corner, he’s not paying attention to you. You could be setting a fire and he wouldn’t notice until the room was in flames.

Gakuho is a man only concerned with self-preservation. The desire to only be the best. Nothing below perfection.

And you are the epitome of imperfection to him. A daughter that looks practically nothing like him. A brain for creativity rather than realism. And compassion for all, rather than for none.

“Father… can I go see Nii-San…?”

He barely payed attention to your words.

“You’ll only distract him. He has important responsibilities, angel. Not that you’ll ever understand.”

Despite how used to his words you were, they never stopped hurting. Your father… who was supposed to be the first man you’d ever trust and love, treated you like you were dirt.

“Now go back to your useless activities and keep quiet, darling. I have work to do.”

His words were always said with the fakest of smiles and the blandest of tones. He acted like a machine. He treated Gakushu like a machine. A well-oiled machine that would always be able to achieve perfection.

But not you.

You were but a bucket of spare parts.

It didn’t matter how hard you worked in school, your father never noticed. Or rather, never cared.

But even still, you wanted to please him… to earn his praise and maybe even a smidge of affection…

And to you, a small child who doesn’t know any better, even being spanked with his belt was affection. Proof that he was acknowledging you. Something you did, even if it was absolutely horrible. A failed test, a missed assignment, a swear slipping past your lips.

You wanted to have your fathers attention.

Yet Gakushu did everything he could to try and keep you away from him. Tried to reach you better. Get you to understand that “Babes, Father is not a nice man.”

And you never listened.

Because that was still your father.

You were still his daughter.

And no matter what, you’d always be Daddy’s Girl.

And the scars on your body and on your heart would prove that.

Mimi’s Notes: did i write this in one sitting? Yes. Will I go back and edit it at some point? Hopefully. Did I think this concept through? Kinda. Did it seem like a good idea? Yes.

#🎂.assassinationclassroom #🍰.asano #tw.abuse #tw.childneglect #relation.platonic #asano gakushuu #asano gakuhou #asano x reader #assassination classroom x reader #assassination classroom fanfic

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heyidkyay · 1 year ago

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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Thirteen

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors Note: I'm sorry it took so long!! I really struggled to write this part ngl, but once it came I just went with it:) lots of emotions this time around, AS WELL AS some healthy pining in store! So we're finally getting somewhere, finally. Anyway, thanks to @procrastinatinglikeapro for the idea surrounding Mouse's gift to Matty- was struggling with that whole concept but we're going w it now! Hopefully you enjoy, thanks for all the love on this series too, means a whole lot xx

> Just a reminder! We left the last update with a surprise knock at the door:) You can look back here if you'd like, or just read the last little snippet below!

Masterlist

Watching them was all too lovely as well. For someone with such a cool front, Matty seemed to melt around Teddy, succumbing to that of the boy’s charm and easy going nature. It was sweet to see, surprising, but endlessly sweet. Had me losing track of time, in truth. Which is why I jumped and cursed the way I did when the door finally knocked.

“Mémé!”

...

“Mimi?” Matty murmured to himself as he followed the instruction Mouse had left him with, clearing away the wrapping paper Teddy had so carelessly tossed about the room earlier in his excitement and settling the little guitar up onto the sofa.

His eyes lingered on the wooden instrument for a short second, recalling the moment when he’d first spotted it. He hadn’t thought much about what he’d been doing when he’d walked on by the shop window only to then find himself stumbling inside, spending God knows what on a little boy he’d only really met just the once. He couldn’t bring himself to regret it though, even with how nervous he’d been for Teddy’s reaction.

Speaking of Teddy though, the little boy had practically charged the front door the second it had rang a few minutes ago, jumping up and down and tugging at the handle in his obvious excitement, whilst the woman sitting opposite them had frozen completely in her seat, like a soldier experiencing shellshock.

Matty thought they’d been having a good time overall, a brilliant time even! But then the doorbell had sounded and all of her smiles and her carefree laughter had been drenched in water, washed away as soon as she had stood up to answer the knock.

“Mé. Mé.” Came a drawn out voice behind him then, obviously having heard Matty’s shoddy attempt at it and deciding to sound the word out for him.

Matty spun around on his heel to catch sight of the toddler hanging off of the living room door. The kid was like their very own little monkey, always swinging off of something. Matty raised a brow at the correction he’d been given. “Me-me?” He tried again, beyond perplexed and wondering what the fuck everyone was going on about.

Teddy giggled happily at him and then shook his head, curls flying with it, Matty briefly questioned where Squeaks had gotten to.

“Mémé.” The boy sounded it out for him again and this time Matty caught the different accent that had filtered in, it was so prominent when the boy spoke that one word.

Matty’s forehead creased. “Mémé?” At Teddy’s buoyant nod, he grinned at having finally grasped it, “And just who might that be, mate?”

Teddy glanced over his shoulder before he pushed off of the door, letting it swing slightly as he hurried his little feet over to where Matty was currently standing, bin bag in hand. The latter dropped it though to take a seat on the settee, hoisting the little man up onto his knee.

One thing Matty had quickly learned in his short time of knowing the kid, was that Teddy was clingy. Not that that was a bad thing, Matty knew he could be just as bad some days. If not worse. But having someone seek that sort of comfort from him, out of all people, in such an intimate way made him feel necessary, as though he served a real purpose.

“Go on, let me in on the secret then.” Matty prodded, jerking his chin out ever so slightly to nudge Teddy's shoulder. He relished in the soft giggles it earned him.

“Mémé’s my Mémé!”

“Oh! Well, that makes so much sense, don’t it?” Matty remarked in return, rolling his eyes fondly at the unhelpful reply before he tickled the boy’s sides, “Don’t it?”

“Stop, Matty! I tolds you, I tolds you!” Teddy squealed, laughing so hard that he nearly slipped right on out from under Matty’s hold, but the singer propped him back up all too easily.

“You didn’t.” Matty grinned, having relented on his attack of the toddler, settling Teddy more comfortably into his side. He enjoyed having someone smile back at him with no other intention than just the simplicity of enjoying his presence, with kids there was never any ulterior motives. “Where’s your mum anyway, huh?”

“Right here.”

Matty’s head shot up to find Mouse now standing in the doorway wearing a strained sort of smile, a single suitcase behind her and then, “Oh.”

“Mémé!” Teddy pointed, dragging his eyes back up to meet Matty’s weary and startled face as he bounced excitedly.

Of course ‘Mémé’ would've had to have been Squeaks’s mum, because who else could it have possibly been? Who else would have such impeccable timing?

He was fucked. And Matty knew it.

Mouse must've seen the realisation that hit him too, because she used the moment to try and disguise the utter horror dawning on Matty’s face by clapping her hands and promptly glancing back at her mum from over her shoulder. “Mam! This is Matty. Matty,” She turned back to him, thankful to find that he’d sort of wised up to the situation they’d been shafted with and shut his gaping gob, “Matty this is my mum, Anaïs.”

Matty tried extremely hard to commit the pronunciation to memory, which proved to be a little bit easier when the toddler hanging off his hip started parroting it over and over again.

“Eh, excusez-moi! It is Mémé to you, mon chéri.” The woman answered Teddy with a soft sort of smile as Squeaks stepped aside to let her mother further in, aged eyes honed in on her giggling grandson.

Matty took the moment to admire the older woman, focusing on all the things her daughter had obviously inherited, the way she held herself, and the strength of her gaze when it finally landed on him. He swallowed thickly.

“And you are Matty?” Matty nodded at her, not really feeling the way Teddy was now tugging on his fingers whilst the woman stepped even closer, gracing her daughter with a quick look that Matty couldn’t quite make out. “Ah.” She breathed before she finally smiled at him, a small thing, so different to the one he’d previously seen when she’d been teasing Teddy. “Ana is fine really, it seems you people always have a difficult time with it.”

There was humour there but Matty didn’t want to brush her name aside just for the sake of struggling, he’d get there in the end, he was sure of it. Just like how he’d gotten through a setlist full of songs edited by George, replacing most words with- well, probably best not to think of those two very separate things in the same context.

Matty struggled to control his sudden urge to grimace.

“Anaïs?” He stumbled slightly but then tried again with an apologetic smile and dipped brows, “Anaïs.”

“Mémé!” Teddy cut in with a uninformative correction, reaching upwards to poke at Matty’s slightly stubbled cheek. He was in need of a quick shave but seeing as he’d be heading up north for the holidays he’d foregone it, knowing his mum preferred him clean shaven. ‘Makes you look so much healthier, Matthew!’

The man glanced down, a thoughtless chuckle skipping out of his mouth like a rock over a lake as he shook his head closer to the boy’s own, letting his curls tickle Teddy’s tiny face. “Matty!” He laughed again, squirming before he too was shaking his hair in retaliation.

Matty couldn’t quite help his beaming smile when he looked back up at the woman, who seemed very content with just watching the pair of them. His eyes trailed over her shoulder briefly to spot the way that Squeaks was currently chewing on her lower lip, silently fretting.

“Sorry, I’ll get it soon enough.” He told Anaïs with as much genuinity as he could muster up, oddly wanting to keep the woman on side. “It is lovely to meet you though, Anaïs.” She smiled in turn at the use of her name, even with Matty’s slight wince, and then dipped her chin at him. “I didn’t realise I’d be stepping on any toes dropping by.”

“Non, you are fine.” She assured him with a slight shake of her head, waving his apology right off, “My flight was delayed. I was worried I’d be keeping them waiting, so you did me a favour.”

Matty physically felt his shoulders sag with sudden relief at the woman’s words, glad to note that he hadn’t fucked much up by stopping in without a warning. Although, he tapped Teddy’s leg softly then to get him moving, “Don’t you wanna go say hello then, monster? I’d best be off now.”

Teddy’s eyes widened at that last bit and Matty was sure he’d never seen anyone move so fast. “No!” The boy exclaimed, wrapping his chubby little arms around Matty’s neck and holding fast.

Matty’s eyes widened just as he adjusted his grip better around the kid, beyond perplexed by the sudden change. “God, little man! Tryna take me out here?” He chuckled as best he could, voice a tad bit strained by the surprisingly strong hold Teddy had on his neck.

“Teds!” Matty heard Squeaks gasp out quickly, before she was already rounding her mother in a hasty beeline to help. “You can’t just-”

She huffed when Teddy only tightened his grip and Matty couldn’t help the other chuckle that slipped out.

“Teddy.”

“It’s fine, honest.” Matty assured her, a hand splayed on the toddler’s back whilst he stared over at Mouse’s oddly harassed expression. “Teddy, mate. I’ve got to head out now, but I reckon I can promise you a visit soon though. If your mum doesn't mind much.”

The pair of them shared a look then, but Teddy didn’t take to the ruse.

Matty pursed his lips to keep his growing grin at bay, knowing it wouldn’t earn him any points with Mouse, and then moved at an angle in an attempt to see the little boy’s face that was still hidden away in the curve of his shoulder.

“Teds, look. We can make a plan, yeah? ‘Cause I proper enjoyed that last little outing we had the other day- you know, the way you went down that slide at the park was crazy! “ Matty peered in closer and smiled at the sight of a blinking eye. “Or maybe you can come ‘round mine. I’ve got lots of guitars there, reckon we could mess about with them and annoy your mum until she goes mad.”

That had Teddy pulling further away, but only by a fraction. Matty noted the way not just Squeaks, but Anaïs too, was watching him now.

“Play ‘tars?”

Teddy’s small voice snapped him out of the apprehensive feeling that had started to coil. He blinked down at the kid, “Yeah, if you want. We can do whatever, yeah? Zoo, the park-” Matty sort of frowned then and glanced back up towards where Squeaks was now crouched before them, “What else do kids like to do?”

His whispered ask was rewarded with a breathy chuckle that lit up the girl's entire face and had her giggling away to herself even as her son squirmed excitedly in Matty’s hold.

“Zoo?” Teddy questioned him with big pleading eyes, “With the ‘guins? And the tigers?”

Matty felt his face pinch, “‘Guins?”

“The cold birdies, Matty! ‘Dem ones.”

Ah.

“Yeah, ‘course the penguins will be there!” Matty nodded resolutely, then turned back to Mouse, “London Zoo has penguins right?”

She snorted unhelpfully but Teddy paid their conversation no mind at all, apparently far too excited with the sudden prospect of an adventure to the Zoo. Looking at his face, Matty knew he’d have to find a way to make it happen.

“Right, we all settled then?” He asked the toddler, raising an eyebrow down at the tyke, suddenly wondering how he’d gone from pleasing a crowd full of fans to bargaining with a four year old. How his mum had ever managed to cope with the likes of him at this age was maddening.

Teddy looked up at him then with eyes squinted from the strength of his smile, he took a long second to deliberate the whole ‘letting go thing’ and then finally released Matty from his chokehold.

“Cheers, monster.” Matty laughed softly, ruffling the kid’s curls before passing him off over into Mouse’s awaiting arms.

“Hear, mum! Hear Matty?” Teddy quizzed her immediately, bouncing on her hip as she stood.

“I heard, love.” Squeaks chuckled softly before she turned to flash a smile in Matty’s direction, both apologetic and grateful. “You wanna say thanks to Matty for your present before he goes?”

“Ta!”

A bright laugh burst from Matty at that, but he shook his head and then forced himself back onto his feet, reaching out to tickle the little boy’s leg. “Welcome, mate.”

And just like that Teddy was squirming to get down and go see his grandmother who appeared to have watched the whole scene play out from the sidelines.

Matty dimmed his grin into a smaller smile and let his eyes linger on the girl beside him, on the love she obviously had for her son and mother both. He wondered briefly what having that much love might feel like.

“I cleared up, by the way.” He mentioned quietly now that he was watching Teddy too, leaning into Squeaks’s side a little. “Figured it was only right, seeing as I’d been the cause and all that.”

She tittered lightly to herself, then pivoted to face him. “I appreciate it, all of it.”

It was obvious she wasn’t just talking about the clean up.

“No worries.” Matty shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling suddenly self-conscious, which wasn’t new but was also not appreciated. “I’d better be off, though, got a long drive and all that.”

Her brows rose ever so slightly before she nodded, as though she’d only just remembered he was meant to be on his way. “Yeah, yeah right. I’ll walk you out.”

Matty smiled, then turned back to the remaining two. “Monster! I’ll be seeing you! Be good and keep practising those chords for me, alright? I’ll be checkin' in.”

Teddy nodded buoyantly from where he had dragged his grandmother over to the sofa to view his gifted guitar, “Bye, Matty. See soon!”

Kid was a right little charmer.

Matty grinned back at him before allowing his eyes to meet Anaïs's own. “It was lovely meeting you, have a Merry Christmas.”

Anaïs granted him with a soft smile, one that Matty had only ever really seen mimicked by his own mum. “It was. Joyeux Noël, Matty.”

He nodded quietly to himself, the French infiltrating his mind. By the time both he and Mouse had made it back out into the hallway, the living room door now closed behind them, Matty allowed himself to voice his sudden thoughts, “You never said you were French.”

Squeaks quirked a brow at him in return, already pulling his coat off the hook and handing it over to him. Matty slowly shucked it on.

“Half.” She informed, watching him now from her place by the bannister, “And there’s a lot you don’t know about me yet, Healy.”

It was teasing but Matty knew that truth rather intimately, Mouse was a maze of secrets. Her name, her son, her origin. He wondered over what else she had kept so carefully hidden, but bit his tongue when he thought to ask. Yet, she had said. Matty could deal with a ‘yet’.

“Seems so.” He hummed sarkily, although he was smiling again. He always seemed to be smiling nowadays. Then he went to double check he had everything in his pockets only to realise that his jacket still homed one last gift. “Shit.” He muttered under his breath.

Mouse’s brow dipped, “What?”

A surge of anticipation surged through him at that question, what indeed. What the fuck had he been thinking, more like.

He’d gifted presents to women before, friends, girlfriends, staff at gigs. But this one left him feeling all weird. The type of weird that you often felt getting caught with a girl at school, or mentioning a silly crush to one of your mates on the playground.

His eyes flickered up to meet hers in the dimly lit hallway, fingers dancing over the envelope he had tucked away.

“Matty?”

Matty forced up that familiar bravado of his and stepped on closer, plucking the present from the confines of his coat as if he hadn't actually had a second thought about it, and then held it out towards her with a sly grin.

“Realised I couldn’t come bearing just one gift.” He told her, widening his eyes and prodding the envelope closer so that she’d finally get the hint and take it. Her fingers grasped it carefully, like she was wary he’d snatch it back.

Then her warm eyes met his own again, “Matty.”

He didn’t think he would ever get used to the sound of her saying his name. No matter how she said it.

Matty straightened at it though, already knowing she’d try to give it on back before even opening the thing, and waved her on, “Go on, it’s right rude to deny a present, you know?”

That spurred a soft laugh out of her, ever entertained by his absurdity. But before he could cajole her a little more, her face was lighting up with a sudden realisation, “Hang on a sec.” She said to him and then darted back down the hallway, leaving Matty blinking in her wake.

It didn’t take her all that long to return, though the suspense she’d left him with had now jumped to new heights.

“Sorry,” Squeaks smiled sheepishly, the envelope still in her hand, only weighed out now by the small bag she held in the other, “Forgot this.”

Matty was back to blinking again, startled by the fact that she had thought to get him something at all, let alone in return. “Um,” He murmured, rendered dumbstruck, before her light laughter broke him free. “If there’s something dirty in there, I will be telling your mother.”

Her eyes narrowed but her lips curved, “If you can make it to her in time.”

“Ooh sending out threats now, are we?”

That smile of hers was both devious and full of amusement, “Always.” Then she pushed the bag towards his chest, “Go on, open it.”

Matty shook his head, though he still accepted the Christmas patterned bag full of red tissue paper. “I gave you mine first, so I can’t open this ‘til you open yours.” He shook the bag to further accentuate his point.

“That's how it works, is it?” Squeaks commented, eyes creasing in her mirth, but Matty was as stubborn as they came and met her stare head on. “Fine,” She relented with a gentler smile, as though she already knew she wouldn’t win this particular battle, and moved to hold the envelope between them, thumbing the seal. “But this better be something nice, Matty. If it’s stupid I will toss you out.”

He laughed at the fact that they were already standing by the door, “Already are, sweetheart. But nah, you’re alright. Just hoping you’ll like it.”

Those eyes of hers flickered between his own again, left, right, then like ripping off a plaster she opened the envelope within a blink. As she grasped at the pages tucked within, Matty felt his resolve crumble somewhat, vaguely embarrassed by the many emotions he currently felt warring within him and the fact that he couldn’t wage how Mouse might react.

But all those thoughts and feelings were immediately sidelined when he heard her gasp, this breathy little thing that echoed in the small space between them and had Matty’s mind reeling.

“Matty.”

He reckoned that if he could get away with asking her to only say his name again, exactly like that, he’d record it and give it its own side on their next album. Fuck anyone who’d argue otherwise.

Her expression was one Matty had never witnessed on Mouse before. He’d seen her surprised (that day he’d turned up out of the blue at the studio), seen her happy (messing about with Teddy on Facetime, listening to the boy ramble and rant), he’d seen her awkward and stressed (at that charity event where he’d been all but glued to her side), and he’d also seen her tired (when those late night calls of theirs had ended with bleary eyes and sweet smiles).

Matty swallowed at the heavy feeling he felt corrode his chest.

“I can’t take these, Matty.” She argued, all but pulling him back to the present when she tried to hand the gift back to him.

He swatted her arm away, shaking his head with a tiny smile. “You can take them. What the fuck am I gonna do with 'em otherwise?”

She rolled her eyes but let his hand linger on the back of her own. “It’s way too much. I mean, how did you even manage it, how’d you even know?”

Matty laughed at that, “You’re really asking how I knew? Squeaks, babe, you bring him up almost every time we talk, you sing his songs when you’re cooking on call, and you never fail to mention him on your show. Even Teddy pipes up when he’s playing on the radio!”

Mouse had the nerve to look abashed at that. “It’s still too much.”

“Of course it’s too much. But I am, if anything, extreme.” Matty snipped back, smirking.

“But it’s Billy Joel, Matty! You can’t just buy a girl tickets to go and see Billy Joel!” Squeaks immediately argued back, though Matty noticed the way her eyes shone whenever she looked down at the tickets and how her fingers toyed with the paper ever so carefully.

“You’re right,” He agreed again, surprising her, “Good thing I got you two then.”

She gave him a huffy sigh in retort, one that had him grinning. “Matty.”

“Mouse.”

Her nose scrunched then, at the use of her name or the way he'd parroted, Matty couldn’t tell. “How am I meant to compete with tickets like these?”

Matty rolled his eyes at the stupidity of that question, “You don’t, I didn’t just give you them thinking I’d get something in return, Squeaks. I want you to have them.”

He was met with a drawn out silence then, her stare drifting back and forth between the tickets, himself and then back again. “Thank you.” She finally said, looking up at him with a wonder in her eyes that made Matty question whether she’d ever just been given anything for the sake of it.

“You’re welcome, love.” The smile he wore grew when she looped her arms around his waist to pull him into a hug.

Hugs were a rare thing with Mouse, Matty had noted, unless you were four and had a mop-full of curls then you’d best not even think about offering her one. Though he had that last bit down tap, they didn't really do that sort of thing past a greeting.

Still, hugging her settled something within him, something he couldn’t quite comprehend but allowed to wander all the same.

She squeezed his middle once before they parted again and Matty did his best to ignore the slight sheen her eyes now held and the way she slyly wiped at her nose. “Really, Matty. It means so much.”

Matty felt his heart stutter at the tender look she wore, then smiled. “Just make sure you send me the odd video, alright? Or at least a pic of you all dressed up.”

She laughed when he winked but he didn’t let it deter him. He wasn’t a constant listener of Old Joe but a classic was a classic, and the man was exactly that.

“Won’t need to.” Squeaks told him firmly and when he raised a brow she grinned hopefully, “You’ll be coming with, won’t you?”

Of all reactions, it was baffling to Matty that he had not expected that.

“Me?” He asked her, needing her to clarify.

“I don’t see no one else standing here.” She snorted, but her grin dampened all too quickly at the expression that must’ve been plastered on his face. “You don’t have to, I know you’re busy and got stuff going. Just thought…”

She finished that with a needless shrug which had Matty reaching out, hand cupping her right cheek, fingers slipping gently into her hair, it was soft. “‘Course I’ll come. Nothing could stop me.”

Her eyes had widened momentarily at the unexpected touch, Matty was quick to notice, but couldn’t bring himself to pull away just yet, especially when her face softened and she leaned ever so slightly into his hold.

–

‘Course I’ll come. Nothing could stop me.

Those words played on a loop in my head for the rest of the day, taking me through into the late evening where I was currently stood in the kitchen making another round of tea. Chamomile for mam, green for me.

The words were a promise I couldn’t quite find myself believing.

Too many people had promised me things; promised to keep my secrets, promised to keep me safe, promised to be there, promised to come. But only a fair few had ever followed through.

Matty was an anomaly though.

In himself, and in everything he said and did.

It always left me thinking, wondering...

It was just as I was stirring the honey into the mug that wasn't mine that I startled at the soft brush I felt beside me.

“I was just coming.” I attempted to say, glancing over at my mum who now stood beside me at the counter, gazing out the tiny kitchen window.

She waved me off with a tender smile, taking over honey duty as she slid her cup closer. “Your mind has been elsewhere today.” She accused me and immediately I felt my hackles rise, ready to jump into defence mode, but she merely casted me a careless look. “You never mentioned this Matty before.”

The change of subject threw me, enough that I frowned and was quiet until she wandered on over to take perch at the table with both our drinks. I blinked, feeling the fight drain out of me, then followed after her.

The chair scraped against the tiles as I pulled it free and I cringed at the silence that followed, hoping it hadn’t stirred Teddy who had not long fallen asleep down the hall.

When the quiet remained, I finally took my seat, wrapping my fingers around the warm mug and pulling it in nearer. “I didn’t think to.” I told her, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue. I was quick to drown it in tea.

My mum merely hummed, sipping elegantly at her chamomile. “He seems comfortable here. Teddy likes him too.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. Thinking about earlier, the present Matty had gifted me, the one I’d given him in turn.

I could still feel the press of his hand against my cheek. So gentle, I’d almost wanted to break.

“They met about a week ago, an accident really.”

She hummed again, staring off ahead, and so I picked up my mug to keep myself from talking any more.

It had felt wrong, not getting Matty a present, which seemed so strange considering the circumstances. On how we’d only known each other a few short months. But I still couldn’t find it in me to ignore the feeling.

I could recall his face when he’d finally pulled away to peer into the gift bag I’d handed him, he’d been chewing on lip trying to dampen the sincerity of his smile...

Wary and still reeling off of the tender moment we’d just shared, I fidgeted with the envelope I held in my hand. It looked to be black but in the light it shone blue. It felt expensive, though I could see the way it had been fidgeted with, or held, like someone had kept picking it up only to put it down again.

Matty opened the bag with the same fragility I’d shown his envelope, rustling the tissue paper inside without much fanfare.

When he pulled the woolly item out from inside I felt all too stupid. What were his concert tickets to see one of my favourite musicians compared to a simple hat? I fretted.

I fish mouthed for a brief moment when his fingers swiped over the soft material, before my eyes finally darted up to meet his honeyed brown.

“You got cold, that time we took you to the park. Teddy said it would be good for the next time we go.” I stumbled slightly, it wasn’t the whole truth, no. But I wouldn’t dare mention the hours I’d spent searching for the right one, none of them feeling anything like ‘Matty’ until I’d seen this redcurrant coloured beanie.

He stared down at the gift for a long second, leaving me to wallow in my pitiful gift and the hastily given thought behind it, before he smiled. It was kind and it was genuine and it had the air fleeing from my lungs.

“Well, I’ll wear it and think of you both.” Matty murmured breathily, his voice catching ever so slightly on that last word. I swallowed thickly and without thinking took his hand in mine.

He looked down at the joined pair and smiled, but our quiet moment was then interrupted by rather loud strumming that echoed out.

Shocked, we both jumped a tad at the sound but then laughed, listening to Teddy call for his Mémé to watch him play.

I went to let go and Matty almost let me before he lightly tugged my hand closer, pressing the woolly hat into my palm. “Put it on for me?”

Blinking, I grasped the beanie tighter and watched as his hand fell away. I nodded when I glanced back up at him, his eyes watching me closely, then stepped forward, fumbling to carefully place my envelope in the back pocket of my jeans before fixing the hat over the top of his dark unruly curls.

Having to tiptoe, I let my thumb skim the brim of it, just above the skin of his brow, so that I could fix it a tad. Then peered into his warm eyes once more, “There you go.”

Matty smiled, and oh did I love seeing him smile.

We didn’t speak as he roped me into another hug, arms latching around one another's middles. We didn’t share many of those but somehow they always felt right, and then when he stepped away I felt the faint graze of his lips against my cheek.

His fingers were catching the latch on the front door before I could even react, his smile still there, his eyes now shining with some sort of emotion I couldn’t place.

“Merry Christmas, Squeaks.”

I came back to then, at the feel of my mother’s hand cradling mine atop the kitchen table, my head turned to search her tender stare. “Glowing, ma chérie.” She reminded me and oddly, I felt caught.

“Maman.” I whispered, looking away, but all she did was gently pat the back of my hand before pulling back.

“Petit à petit, l'oiseau fait son nid.” Was all that she said, throwing me back to days spent when I’d only been a little girl curled up in her lap.

Little by little, the bird makes its nest.

Slowly but surely things will change. I just had to remind myself that change wasn’t always a bad thing.

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therapy-familiar-reports · 2 years ago

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REPORT #Q@&$ DATE: !& | ! | In the œth Year of the ß§rd Cycle REPORTER: Loch | Mimi (familiar) CLIENT: Aidan Corcoran (wizard)

NOTE:

Starting this year, the Department of Familiar-Wizard Relations is requiring working familiars and all of their wizard partners to document their work for historical records. The records will be sealed. All of the following information in this report will remain confidential until records are made public at the beginning of the next Cycle. This report and any other reports made by the Familiar Therapeutic Service Agency, due to its status as a healing center and thus subject to the Healing Privacy Act, will be handled with even further care to ensure absolute confidentiality. If a client would like to request for their records to be destroyed, they should contact their Agency liaison.

TW: Memory loss, dementia, wizard death, pet death

BEGIN ENTRY:

Today, Earl told me I had to write down a report for each of my clients due to a new law from the Department. When I asked him how the report should be formatted and written, he responded with, “Eh? I don’t quite know — write whatever comes to your mind, I guess.”

So, here I am. Writing whatever I want with these gross opposable thumbs.

Yes, you read right, gross! Taking forms with opposable thumbs is my least favorite. It makes me feel all squirmy inside, ya know? Alas… I digress. This report is about my most recent client and Pact companion, Aidan Corcoran.

I started working with Aidan two years ago, in the &@th Year of this Cycle. Aidan’s long-time cat, Mimi, had passed away that year. As a 90-year-old wizard with some memory and cognitive problems, Aidan was struggling to adjust to the loss. His daughter Cynthia recommended a therapy familiar. Aidan said he would give it a try. They reached out to my Agency and after a few scheduled visits, it was determined that I would be a good fit for Aidan. Cats are, after all, one of my favorite forms to adopt.

My Pact with Aidan was established, and I came to live with him in the Zochek neighborhood. It was a quiet area, right along the shore of Loch Realtra. He lived in a little brownstone townhouse with a bright red door and a creaky front porch. The porch was clogged with potted plants of all kinds that made me feel like I was walking through the great forests of Murk again when I passed under their shade. Aidan was a passionate amateur botanist, you see.

“Mimi, did you know that most tree species are not even related to each other? They’re entirely different plants who just evolved into the same structure in order to survive,” He once told me while he was pruning the olive tree in his small backyard.

I loved it when he told me those random botanical facts— even when he repeated the same ones.

Now, for you future readers, yes, he called me by the same name as his old cat. This was part of our agreement. Some familiars will choose their own name and stick to it, but I love having multiple names. When I make a Pact with another being, I let them choose a name for me that marks the beginning of our unique relationship. I carry every name I am given with me. I am Mimi, I am Harold, I am Diamond, and I am many more. My Agency coworkers, though, mostly call me Loch because that was the first name I was given when I started working here. But that’s a whole other report… back to Aidan.

Aidan was a stocky and short fellow with a big personality. He was lively, loud, and always quick with a string of curses when he accidentally knocked something over. Such occurrences were common. Aidan confided to me that he had been clumsy since he was a boy. The only difference now was that his magic wasn’t quick enough anymore to fix his missteps. To make up for it, he had replaced the convenience of telekinesis with “just as magical” words, he often joked. As a familiar in a Pact, I could have drawn on our combined pool of magic to catch the objects, but Aidan was adamant that I didn’t.

“Don’t do that now,” He said to me after I had caught a glass that he had elbowed off the kitchen counter, “I can very well take care of my own messes, thank you very much.”

He was stubborn in that old man way which I never quite understood, but I respected his wishes. Too many times had I seen my elderly clients be denied their fully deserved autonomy. I just made sure I was there to watch as his shaky hands grabbed the broom and swept up the shards of glass.

…Damn Earl! I’m not even sure what else I should write down for this report. I could theoretically write absolutely everything down about Aidan, but I fear that this report would be far too long. Perhaps, then, I should speak of his standard routine.

Aidan spent most of his days with his hands in the dirt or around a cup of tea as he watched birds and people fly by his front porch. He loved to read in the mornings. Many nights, he listened to the Bards of Ole runewave station on his old magic stone, singing along loudly and mostly off-key. He would tell me all about how this song was the one he would often hear playing on the stones in his hometown’s alchemy store and how that song was the one he played on his lute for Cynthia’s first birthday.

Cynthia, of course, was all grown up now. She lived just down the street with her two partners. She came over every day to check in and spend time with her dad. Sometimes, her partners came, too. These full family visits often turned into a rousing game of Parcheesi. Cynthia was extremely competitive, and it was clear that she got it from Aidan. Curses were hurled across the board and laughter would fill the air as Cynthia’s partners chuckled at the intensity with which Aidan and Cynthia played. By the time the game was over, whether Aidan had won or lost, he would always have a big, languorous smile across his face — his eyes soft with weariness and joy.

Of course, there were hard moments, too. He would frequently get confused, asking when Cynthia was coming home from school or when he needed to be at the office (he had been retired for nearly 3 decades). Sometimes, he got sad because he knew he couldn’t remember all the details.

“I know you’re Mimi but not really Mimi,” He would say, frowning at me.

I sat with him through each of those moments. Sometimes, all I had to do was jump into his lap, rest my head against his chest, and purr. Other times, when I felt it was necessary, I would speak with him to remind him of details, to reassure him that Cynthia was safe in her own home and would be coming by tomorrow. Only a couple of times did I have to call Cynthia to help support.

The days continued much like this for two years. Quiet mornings, lively afternoons, and cool nights curled up beside Aidan’s pillow as he muttered softly in his sleep.

One of the most striking things about Aidan, I will say, was the way he could fill your heart with just a few, simple words. Maybe it was the old bard in him. Maybe it was wisdom gained through his many years. Or maybe it was his dislike of fancy, suffocated words. However it may be… in moments of quiet, when it was just me and him and it felt like the rest of the world was frozen, he would turn to me and smile.

“Mimi… you make me feel like a million gold coins.”

Yesterday, Aidan died. Peacefully, in his sleep.

I felt the magical bonds of our Pact dissolve and return to the Murk.

I think I will take a break from work for a while.

~END ENTRY~

#reports from a full-time therapy familiar #familiar #magic #wizard #wizardcore #familiar therapeutic service agency #therapy familiar #oc #oc rp #oc rp blog

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clxssified-mirxcle · 2 months ago

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Bewitched Me, From the First Time that You Kissed me ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Suguru

You get that you can’t share certain information during the shared dreams with your soulmate- the rules were taught to you since you started having them as a child, after all- but it seems like he isn’t willing to talk about himself, no matter how much you try to get him to! What's the matter with him, and why is he so hesitant about meeting you?

Containing:

Soulmate AU (Shared Dreams), First Kiss, Secrets and miscommunication, College, but there's still curses AU, we HATEEEE the higher ups, slight Forbidden Love?, Hopeless romantic reader <333

Notes: Mimi tries to avoid use of phrase "Y/N" at all costs; Any feedback is appreciated esp when it comes to writing x readers to be more inclusive in general!

You loved the idea of having a soulmate. Having someone who the universe knew would be the one for you? It felt like something you'd listen from the book of fairytales that your mother would read to you before you'd go to sleep. There were rules though, something she had explained in the weeks leading up to your 4th birthday when you would finally tire from bouncing off the walls endlessly in excitement.

She'd sat you down at the dinner table in a manner that made you sit straighter and puff your chest out. It felt a lot like those meetings that your father had when he brought you with him for Bring your Kid to Work Day.

What was that word again? Important? Maybe.

You wondered what your soulmate would look like. Your mother had taken you to a shaman that specialised in soulmates to find out more and he'd said that it was a guy. You hoped he was pretty.

Your mom sighed, noticing how your eyes glazed over again in a daydream.

"Hey sweetie, you know how you've been really, really excited over meeting your soulmate tomorrow night?" She asked, noticing how your attention immediately snapped towards her at the words 'your soulmate'. It was adorable how set you were on the idea of love.

"Yeah?" You smiled, a giddy smile on your face from the mere idea of meeting them like a true hopeless romantic.

"Well, there's some rules in place that you have to follow, okay? So make sure to listen to me really closely, and then I'll take you out for some ice cream." She said, smiling at your excited nod.

The first rule was your least favourite- that you wouldn't be able to remember what they really looked like once you woke up. Sure, you'd know it instantly the moment you met them, but it still sucked! How were you supposed to rememberif they were pretty or not?!

The second was that you couldn't tell them your name, or your address, or really anything that would make them be able to find you by purposefully searching for it. You could, of course, but again, you wouldn't remember it. If you tried to remember, your mum said, you wouldn't be able to get the words out, like they were stuck in your throat.

She had laughed at the downtrodden look on your face, telling you that these were just how things were. The universe liked fate, and fated lovers never needed to search for each other. Searching would be like doubting fate, and that meant doubting the universe.

You were upset about the fact that you wouldn't know right away for approximately…30 minutes, settling on the concept that in the end, it was just more romantic that you didn't need to search, that it was fated. That one day, your soulmate and you would stumble across each other and it'd be the best day of your life.

Your mother smiled as she tucked you into bed, the biggest, most infectious grin on your face.

It was finally the night- finally time to meet your soulmate!

"You have to calm down, you know. Otherwise you'll never fall asleep," Your mother soothed, brushing your hair aside and barely failing to hold her laughter back at the giggle you let out. "We don't want to keep your soulmate waiting all night, do we? I bet they're already asleep."

You let out a gasp, appalled that you might make your soulmate angry before you even met them, instantly pulling the blankets over your head and screwing your eyes shut tight as your mother shut the lights off with a last goodnight kiss to your forhead.

Sleep came quick, your body tired from the way you were basically bouncing off the walls in excitement.

Your soulmate was already there when you arrived in your shared dream, and you were almost giddy with how pretty he was. You ran down the hill that the dream took place in, looking at him with a smile.

"Hi! Are you my soulmate?" You asked, holding your hand out with a smile as you introduced yourself.

He turned around, and wow. Shiny, smooth black hair and striking violet eyes that made your smile even bigger as he returned it, taking your hand. It was a shame that you'd forget it, when you were awake to daydream about him.

"I think so. My name's Suguru, though my mother says that we won't remember it while we're awake…but I still want to know your name." He said, a thoughtful smile on his face.

You nodded, introducing yourself enthusiastically, sitting down next to him and feeling your heart flutter in your chest when he scooted to sit next to you. Your shoulders were just barely touching as he pointed to a cloud that he said 'looked like a tray of zaru soba', which you thought didn't make any sense,

"…because zaru soba outside of the tsuyu looks like any old lump, Suguru!" You exclaimed, cheeks puffing up in a pout.

"So? That doesn't mean it doesn't look like it!" He retorted calmly with a smile, the argument barely fazing him.

You'd heard from your mother that you'd fall fast, but you didn't realise it was like this, waking up with a dreamy smile and vague memories at a boy that loved zaru soba and the clouds up above.

Fifteen years later…(21 years old)

You had dreams with the boy for a month or so, looking forward to sleeping more than being awake, the way you found yourself infatuated with him, until you started waking with fuzzy memories of long hair, a voice like silk, and change.

He started being more secretive, preferring to listen to you rather than debate in the admittedly childish discussions that he used to, bringing up deep questions that went right over your head.

"Hey…do you think that there's more on Earth than just humans and animals and stuff?"

"What, like…ghosts? Don't be silly, $u%u#u. Of course not."

"…Right."

And then you both entered high school, and you woke up with clear dreams without a glimpse of black hair that you'd tie into a bun, without flashes of deep purple that you always described as magical, bewitching, even.

It was clear. Your soulmate had either lost interest in you, or was hiding from you in the vast, grassy hills of your shared dream. They were endless, as far as you both could tell.

You couldn't stand the thought of your soulmate, someone who you'd never met awake but knew in your heart that he was the one, would grow bored of you or reject you, so you settled for the latter.

You couldn't talk nor find him face to face, but you knew that he'd hear. So you did what you knew best, talked about anything- your day, your feelings, anything into the rolling green hills and blue skies- except how you felt about him, for fear that that small seed of resentment against him that you yourself resented would be the last straw to drive him away.

So that's where you found yourself.

"It's my twenty first birthday tomorrow, so I'm going out with my friends." You commented, sitting down on a patch of grass that used to hold two.

"I know that I still have that essay due on Monday…but it's my birthday, you know? The essay can wait, can't it?" You said with a laugh, longing for someone who you hadn't seen since the last week of middle school.

But who was to say that you hadn't truly seen him since the first time you saw him?

You still stayed a hopeless romantic, trying to find that missing piece that made your heart ache when waking up from yet another dream that held just you.

You didn't even know what possessed you to speak about specifics, the words coming out before you could stop it.

He'd forget in the morning anyways…if he was even listening.

"Anyways…I'm going to this nearby club with my friends for the night. Party and everything. It…doesn't matter, anyways. You're going to forget that in the morning."

You just stared up at the clouds for the rest of the dream, waking up soon after in your bed at your dorm all alone. Your friends had found their soulmates near the start of college, like most of the soulmate pairs you'd seen before- it was considered to be the average time for soulmates to meet.

You mainly spent the morning going to your classes, working on your essay during lunch and any free time you could to make up for the fact that once you went back to your dorm, not much work was going to get done. Your friends had all gathered with you at your dorm, the suite becoming a flurry of activity as you all got dressed to impress …though you'd all be the best dressed regardless.

Not like it mattered. It wasn't like you'd see your soulmate. You didn't know why, but you felt yourself unable to feel any happiness or self satisfaction when you looked at yourself in the mirror like you normally did. It was strange….but you shrugged it off as you and your friends packed into the car together.

It really wasn't a smart idea, looking back. There were seven of you, and the car was supposed to fit five. Three up front- the passenger seat seating two, and four in the back that made you pray that no police would trouble you tonight.

The club was a well known one- Neon Gloss- that was considered the 'de facto' club for celebrations due to their deals, namely free drinks for you, the birthday girl. It was three or four drinks in and two hours spent dancing under bright lights that you excused yourself from the dance floor under the guise of needing the bathroom that you found yourself accosted by a man who had clearly made a business out of spending as much time at a club as possible.

"C'mon, don't you know what a deal you're getting? Just one song, hm?"

He was the definition of the word sleazy, his attempt at a charming smirk coming off more remnicent of the Cheshire cat, too much teeth and leaving no doubt that there were nothing but twisted intentions in his mind. You knew these kind of people well- greasy haired alcoholics that would no doubt take advantage of an unattended drink.

Your soulmate would never.

"…No thank you, I think my friends are looking for me-" You muttered, trying your best at concealing your discomfort as you moved past him, hoping to lose him in the crowd only to be dragged back by a grip too rough and clammy with sweat. He'd introduced himself earlier as "Takashi", and leered at you, reaching for your drink. You dropped it in an attempt to call attention to yourself as you tried to pull away, the glass shattering on the floor, muffled by the loud, blaring sound of the DJ's and club patrons singing loudly along to the music. You felt the tell tale queasiness of nausea in your stomach, a sign of one or two too many drinks.

"Now, now, don't be going too soon, huh?" Tadashi grinned, sending chills down your spine as he pulled you into the empty hall to the bathrooms, his shoes crushing the glass, squeezing your wrist too tight. "I've been watching you all night, birthday girl. Why don't you get me a drink, with that discount of yours?"

You don't know why you opened your mouth to scream when it'd be drowned out in comparison to the people dancing and having a better time than you, but your voice died in your throat when you caught a glimpse of someone coming around the corner to the hallway, a tall man with silky, long black hair that caught your eye immediately, who stopped in his tracks unnoticed by Tadashi. You closed your mouth to open it again and shout once again, for help-

Only to keel over and throw up all over Tadashi's shoes. The action ended before you could fully register what you had done, looking up at the drunk's face, contorted in rage, unable to see if the tall man with the long hair had stayed or left.

Well, might as well rub it in.

You thought to yourself as you balled up the acrid taste in your mouth and spat at his face, defiance in your eyes as you stared at him. Your voice was hoarse as you yelled at him, voice ringing out in the silence

"…Let go of me, you-"

"YOU LITTLE BI-"

Tadashi roared, raising his free hand as you flinched away, waiting for the sharp sting of pain that never came. A single hand had stopped him, pulling the would-be assaulter away from you with so much force that he was knocked to the ground.

It was him. The man with the long hair and…violet eyes…?

Oh.

Him.

You were so caught up in memories of grassy hills and fluffy clouds, of a voice so smooth it could've been made out of silk that you heard less and less, that you didn't notice him turn to face you, gently grasping you by the shoulders and moving you away from the puddle of your throw up.

It was all coming back in a rush that was almost overwhelming.

So this was what it was like, to meet your soulmate. To feel their touch for the first time, to remember everything you had shared…and everything that you hadn't.

"Are you okay?" He asked, voice a low murmur like it was caressing every syllable, deeper than when you last spoke to him. So familiar, like you've heard it for decades, and yet not at all. "It's overwhelming, isn't it? I prepared myself beforehand…and yet."

"And yet." You were nearly unable to hear yourself over the thundering of your heartbeat and the blood rushing through your veins as you echoed his words. "You're…You…You're Suguru."

"Yes, yes I am." Suguru replied, and it felt so strange to finally have a face, a voice, anything more tangible than a feeling that you would remember. His hair was long, longer than the last time you saw him, partially arranged into a half up bun with his singlar bang left untied. Bewitching, violet eyes that were a shade you'd never seen before, and they almost seemed to drink you up, taking every centimeter, every minor shift of your face. "I almost forgot how your face looked like, after only listening to your voice for so long."

"…And I almost forgot everything about you." Your voice was whisper soft, unconsiously containing an edge of bitterness to it. It surprised you, but didn't surprise him one bit. After all, he'd left you, his soulmate, for no reason, no memories to remember him. He'd resent himself too. "I'm more surprised than anything that…"

He finished your sentence; That phenomenon was a common thing to occur with soulmates, after all. "…That you'd ever meet me in the first place. Want to head outside, clear your head?" Suguru asked, offering his arm to you. You stared at it, briefly, but merely nodded in response, walking in front of him.

You couldn't help but yearn to take that arm…but he'd made you wait for six long years…longer if you counted the months when he started to drift away from you…so it felt like a deserving jab.

Petty, but deserving, by the way Suguru's eyes were burning a hole in the back of your head, and you couldn't tell whether it was out of desperation or something else. All you knew was that he was drinking every centimeter of you in, like a man starved and deprived of thirst.

You walked through the hallway, past the bathrooms, through cool concrete walls plastered with colourful posters from events and live shows past to a door that led to a secondary exit to an alleyway. Walking out onto the sidewalk, you turned to him, leaning against a streetlight.

"You're not mad at me." He murmured, stopping a few paces in front of you, his face shadowed by the light of the street lamp where yours was illuminated. "You're trying to act like you are, but you're not."

To your credit, you tried your best, but your glare had no heat, and your words had no real edge, giving you no choice but to concede. "…No. I'm not. Just…why, Suguru?" The words sounded more desperate than you wanted them to, more revealing than they should've. After all, that was the question resounding in your mind every quiet, lonely night.

Suguru didn't know how to respond. Sorcerers had an isolationist lifestyle, especially regarding to soulmates. The loss of a soulmate was crushing, and in such a dangerous line of work, sorcerers were encouraged to cut ties with their soulmates as soon as possible- it was considered better for a sorcerer's soulmate to live thinking that they didn't have a soulmate than form that connection and experience the crushing grief that came with a dead soulmate one had formed a deep connection with.

He didn't know why he'd come to the nightclub. He didn't know how he knew, to come here at this time, but something called him here. To Suguru, it felt like he would find his missing piece; something to fill the hole in his heart that he cut out when he entered Jujutsu High.

Maybe whatever divine being that set up the soulmate system had finally gotten fed up.

And yet…he came anyways. The first intention was to observe. Just catch one glimpse of you, of the life he could've had, and then to leave.

He knew who you were from the first time he saw you.

It hurt, to sever ties with someone so important, but it was for the greater good. It was cruel, to see you, who he knew had never given up hope once, and yet never give you a chance for you to see him.

But then he saw that man follow you, his soulmate, and damn it, he couldn't help but follow. And then he saw a hand raise, and he couldn't help but react.

And by then it was too late. From the first time he touched you, made eye contact with you, Suguru was a goner. He made up his mind then and there, standing under the streetlight.

He couldn't tell you everything, but…he could explain himself just a little bit more.

"I've…not been the most open to you. I know that. There's a lot I can't tell you right now, and there's some things I will never be able to tell you. Just… please listen to me, believe me that I had no control over." He hadn't realised that he'd reached out, holding your hands like a lifeline.

"Is this about… the ghosts that you kept seeing?"

He didn't expect you to remember. It had to be ages since he first told you. Since he first referred to them as ghosts. When he was a young boy who didn't know what a curse was. He didn't answer. Couldn't answer, words stuck in his throat like soba gone down the wrong pipe. It was all he could do to just continue to hold onto your hands and squeeze just a bit tighter, nod stiffly with shame because if he hadn't seen those damn curses, then he could have been spending a lifetime with you already.

But he could. It was a curse in itself.

Your eyes widened at his confirmation, and as much as you wanted to ignore it, the feeling of his hands holding yours made you feel a fluttering warmth in your chest that you hadn't felt since the last time you talked to him. It sobered you up, that warm feeling coupled with the piercing look in his eyes. Your voice was hoarse, and yet your eyes were brimming with…love? Not as far, but something similar. Affection, maybe.

Because at the end of the day, he was here. With you. And from the way he was looking at you like blinking would make you disappear, he wasn't going to leave again.

"Are you safe, Suguru? Are you…Are you okay?" You asked, pulling him a step closer so that you could see him better.

You weren't expecting for that action to kickstart him as Suguru pulled you from your leaning position, hugging -no- embracing you against the soft fabric of the black sweater that he wore. Holding you so tight to him like he wanted to keep you with him forever…and he did. His words, almost devastatingly choked up, like he was broken and you realised how much staying silent during all those dreams had left such a toll on him.

"Your voice…it kept me sane. Being able to remember it…your voice calling my name-" He cut himself off, keeping one arm around your waist as the other trailed up to the back of your neck, tilting it so that you were looking up at him.

Suguru, your soulmate, was looking at you like you were the source of light itself, like a moth drawn to a flame, and you couldn't help it, really. His eyes were just too bewitching, purple with flecks of gold from the streetlamp and a yellowish halo in his hair. Your arms, previously hanging uselessly by your sides shot up to the collar of his sweater, pulling him closer.

Were your eyes not closed as you pulled him into a crushing kiss, you'd honestly be proud of yourself at the shocked look on his face. It may have taken you over a decade, but you'd finally been able to catch your soulmate off guard.

Sorry for this being late everyone!!!! There's...been a lot. I'm a senior in high school in IB Diploma so I've been WEIGHTED with school work and studying (also i had surgery for a skiing injury and then wisdom teeth surgery...so somehow I've already been hit with the ao3 author curse)...but I finally found time to finish this out!! I'm so sorry for the delay, but I will be working and writing the other oneshots...in a much more timely manner. Thank you for being so patient :,DDDD

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@evilari111@the2ndl @lavnder311

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Made everything myself on Canva! Got images from Pinterest!

#geto x reader #l in love ✦ . 　⁺ ♡ . ୨୧ #jjk x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto

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